


Steal My Breath Away

by colorguard28



Series: Breathe [7]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Case Fic, Family, M/M, Slash, plague effects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorguard28/pseuds/colorguard28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somebody close to the team is kidnapped hours before a big storm rolls into D.C. When they discover the crime has its roots in the the past, how will that affect the case? Established Tim/Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap if it's been a while since you read the earlier Breathe works: When the story starts, Tim and Tony are on the last day of their two-week "honeymoon" that was part of Tim's Christmas present to Tony, to go with the rings Tony gave them. Tony's glad to get someplace warm because since September he's been under Dr. Brad Pitt's care for asthma and lung capacity issues that have their roots in his bout of plague in S2, and it's the middle of the snowiest winter in 30 years in the DC area.

_Late January, the Caribbean_

Tony stretched in the sun, relishing the warmth on his skin. "You realize if we were home right now, we'd be wading through all the snow that fell last month, and I'd be bundled up to my eyeballs," he said. "This was one of your better ideas, Tim." He leaned over and kissed his partner until the beeping of the alarm on his watch interrupted them. "OK, time for more sunscreen. Don't want you getting burned, McIrish."

Tim stuck his tongue out. "Much more sunscreen and Major Mass Spec will find it's become part of my body's basic chemical composition."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony said. "Just like Gibbs is made of coffee and sawdust. C'mon, turn over."

Tim rolled onto his stomach and reached his arms over his head. "I think you just like to torture me: first you massage me until I'm primed for all sorts of other fun things we could be doing, and then you insist we stay out here on the beach where we can't actually do any of them."

Tony leaned forward so his breath was hot on Tim's neck and his chest came into contact with Tim's back causing him to tingle with the electricity that always seemed to erupt between them. "Oh, believe me, we'll get to all those things." He kissed the base of Tim's neck, causing him to shiver despite the heat, before pulling back. "But for now I want to enjoy the beach. It's warm. And I can breathe. Besides, you know you like my tan." His hands smoothed the lotion across Tim's back.

"True. But we have to leave tomorrow afternoon. And then it's not only back to work, but we'll be on call every weekend for the next month as a trade-off for these past two weeks of vacation."

"Yes, but for today, Tim, we're still on vacation. So shut up and enjoy." Tony's fingers dug into the muscles around Tim's shoulders before gliding down his back. At a faint moan from Tim, he smirked.

Later that afternoon, the two men sprawled on the bed in their hotel room, half asleep, long limbs tangled together. Tony's thumb rubbed the platinum band on Tim's left ring finger. He felt Tim's touch against his own band and pulled back to look at Tim's face. While the younger man's hair had been bleached by the sun, the regular application of sunscreen had done its job. His skin looked even paler than normal next to Tony's dark tan - the result of two weeks in the tropical sun. "You realize how much ragging we're going to get Monday?" Tony asked. "They've been dealing with snow and ice and single-digit temperatures, and we look like we're coming off two weeks of beach debauchery."

Tim snorted. "Tony, we are coming off two weeks of beach debauchery. And nobody's going to begrudge you time in the warm weather. In fact, everyone in the office has probably appreciated not having to hear you cough for 10 minutes every time you come in from the cold." He sighed.

"I'm fine, McWorry. This is the worst winter DC has seen in years, but before we left Brad said I was doing better than he expected. As long as I can keep the germs at bay, he's planning to cut me back to monthly visits when the weather warms up." Tony pulled his partner close. "Your dad's doing fine, too," he reminded Tim. "He's not getting any worse, which is a pretty big accomplishment. Brad even gave him the OK to teach this semester.

"But only if he wears a mask," Tim retorted. "I know, I know. And it's great that the commandant has been supportive and the midshipmen have worked out a way to help cut down on his exposure by handing out masks and hand sanitizer to Dad's students." He sighed. "I'm just worrying. I can't help it. I hate to see Dad struggling. And I'm afraid that we'll go home and all the benefit you've gained from our time here will evaporate before you see Brad on Monday morning-"

Tony rolled onto his side and silenced the other man with a kiss and kept kissing him until he responded in kind. Pulling back, he looked into those sea-glass eyes he loved so much. "What you need is a distraction."

Tim's mouth turned up in a smile. "What kind of distraction?"

"Let me show you." And he started placing kisses down Tim's chest.

~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~

Gibbs pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Gibbs."

_"Agent Gibbs? It's Eileen McGee."_

"It's Jethro, Eileen. Everything all right with the guys?" Gibbs put down the sandpaper and leaned against the workbench. "They're not due back until tomorrow evening, right?"

_"The boys are fine as far as I know. It's Sean."_

Gibbs frowned. "He all right?"

_"He's at Bethesda with pneumonia. Brad said he's going to be there at least a week."_

"Anything I can do?"

_"I was looking for advice. I don't want to disturb the boys - not when they're going to be home tomorrow anyway. They can't get home any faster, and Tim will just spend the entire time worrying. But I'm afraid he'll be upset if he finds out I've been holding back."_

Gibbs rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Does Sarah know?"

_"Yes. She came home last night because she wanted to spend time with Jethro. Sean and I have been keeping him while the boys are on vacation."_

Gibbs looked at his watch. "Give me an hour, and I'll come pick up Jethro and take him off your hands. It'll be one less thing for you to worry about. And hold off on calling Tim; we can talk when I get there."

_"Thanks, Jethro. I appreciate it."_

"That's what family does."

_"Still, I appreciate it. I'm sure you have better things to do."_

"Eileen. Nothing is more important than family. See you in a bit."


	2. Chapter 2

It was almost 2100 by the time Gibbs got to Annapolis. Eileen opened the front door as soon as he stepped onto the porch. Her dark hair was down around her face, her blue eyes were rimmed with red, and her skin was paler than normal.

"Thanks for coming, Jethro," she said.

He walked in and pulled her into a hug.

"I shouldn't have dragged you out here at this time of night."

"My idea." He pulled back and looked at her. "You OK?"

She shrugged. "Define OK. I'm better than Sean is." She closed her eyes, but Gibbs had seen the moisture in them. He asked her for coffee, figuring she would do better with a tangible task, and followed her back to the kitchen. It was homey and cluttered, not the rigid neatness Gibbs had often seen in the homes of career officers. Family pictures hung on the wall by the kitchen table, and Gibbs stood looking at them while she put the coffee on to brew. He looked at the photos that captured McGee as he grew from a toddler to a gangly, lanky teenager. He had never really thought about the age gap between the young agent and his sister — they were both very young as far as he was concerned — but it was obvious in these childhood pictures, starting with a pre-teen Tim holding baby Sarah. He smiled at some of the newer additions to the wall, photos of Tim and Tony together and with the rest of the McGees. Even a photo taken this past Christmas of all of them, from Jack to Sarah.

"You have a beautiful family," Gibbs said as she handed him a steaming mug. They sat down at the table.

Eileen smiled. "Sean always wanted pictures," she said. "Each time he shipped out, I'd make him a photo album of us and the kids, with empty pages in the back. Every few weeks, I'd send more photos. Big things, like the first time Tim rode his bike without training wheels, and little things, like Sarah climbing a tree. When he got back, he'd frame his favorites for the wall."

Gibbs thought back to his days on active duty. "It was tapes for me. Shannon, my first wife, would send me cassettes — she and Kelly talking to me, Kelly playing the piano as she got older. I still have them, still play them from time to time." He closed his eyes and remembered sitting in a tent in Kuwait, listening to the one that arrived just days before his girls died. "I had a tough time fitting the recorder into my gear, but it was worth washing my T-shirts more often to make room for them. I imagine Sean felt the same way."

Eileen nodded. "He had been in the Navy almost 10 years by the time Tim was born. The next few times he shipped out, he talked about getting out of the service and finding a civilian job. But he was already more than halfway toward his 20 years, so we decided he would stay in until he could retire. Then he got a stateside posting. His CO there knew he was thinking about getting out and recommended him for the post at the Academy, and we've been here ever since."

"I was only 4 years away from my 20 when the girls died. Probably would have gotten out then. Kelly was heartbroken the last time I shipped out. Before Desert Storm I was never gone for any length of time." Gibbs sipped some coffee and pushed back the memories. "Wonder if it would have made a difference if I'd gotten out sooner. Girls might still be alive."

Eileen sighed. "It's easy to play the what-if game, isn't it? Ever since Sean got sick, we've wondered if he could have avoided exposure by getting out when Tim was born. But it turns out that asbestos was phased out of ships before Sean ever thought about leaving the Navy, so by then the damage was probably already done. In fact, we're probably better off that he stayed in. The VA only covers asbestos-related illnesses if you can prove it's related to Navy service, which is apparently pretty difficult if you've ever been exposed at any other point in your life. But since Sean's still active duty, we don't have to worry about that. Instead he's able to see Brad and get care without all the hassle." Gibbs watched her rub a hand across her eyes, and he lay his hand to her shoulder. She looked up at him. "Thank goodness for small favors, huh?"

"Not so small. Brad's the best. He saved Tony from the plague. He's still keeping him going, even insists Tony's going to be a field agent as long as he wants if he has anything to do with it." He patted her shoulder before sitting back in his seat. "Sean's going to make it through."

Eileen nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Been thinking about what you asked."

"About telling the boys?"

Gibbs nodded. "You picking them up?"

"Abby was going to unless she got tied up with work."

"Does Abby know?"

Eileen shook her head. "I asked Sarah not to mention it to her until we knew more."

Gibbs thought for a second. "Don't call. I'll pick them up and tell them about Sean, then take them over to Bethesda. It'll be after visiting hours, but they know me there. As many times as Tony's been in, they know him. If he can't fast-talk his way past the nurses, I'll scare them."

Eileen nodded. "Sean's in a limited-access unit because of the pneumonia. They said immediate family only and wouldn't let me put Tony on the list. Brad said he would take care of it."

Gibbs muttered about inflexible nurses, but kept it quiet enough that Eileen couldn't hear. "If Brad can't get him on the list, let me know. I'll make sure Tony's able to get in."

"Thanks, Jethro. I didn't want to make too big a fuss. Even though NCIS is civilian and DADT doesn't apply, Sean's seen too many young men and women pressured out of the Academy by it for me to take the risk. The boys both love NCIS."

Gibbs nodded. "They're not in any danger. Vance knows about their relationship, and he's taken steps to make sure they're safe from trouble-makers. If Brad gets slapped down, we can handle it." He drained his mug. "It's getting late. Sure you want to spend most of tomorrow at Bethesda, so I'll get the dog and his gear and get out of your hair."

Eileen insisted he didn't have to rush off, but Gibbs and Jethro were on their way 15 minutes later. Once home, he got the dog settled then headed down to the basement. He kept the door shut so Jethro couldn't follow him downstairs. Tony didn't do well in the basement when Gibbs was sanding, and he didn't want to send dust home in the dog's fur.

His hands smoothed the wood on his current project stroke by stroke. While his hands were busy, his mind was free to wander. Thinking back over his conversation with Eileen, he stopped to dig out his battered tape player. As he sanded, he listened to the last tape his girls had sent him. Listening to their voices, it was as though they were right there with him. It had always been that way when he was overseas, too, so he wasn't surprised to hear Sean McGee used photos for the same reason. Most of the sailors and Marines he served with who had families found some way to keep that connection alive while deployed.

After he'd lost Shannon and Kelly, he had never imagined that he'd be part of a family again. Much less that it would be formed of people whom he worked with day in and day out. Tony, Tim, Ziva, Abby — they were... what did Abby call them? Oh yeah, the Gibblets. He shook his head. Only Abby.

As close as they were though, the family analogy wasn't perfect. After all, McGee didn't need Gibbs as a father figure. He had Sean, who was close both geographically and emotionally. Not to mention the young man's feelings toward first Abby and now Tony weren't what you'd call brotherly.

Tony, though, had become like a son to him, and he was proud to be able to offer the younger man the security and the dependability he'd not had growing up. But he was also thankful that Tony had found such a good partner in Tim — watching his six out in the field and helping heal the deep wounds from his childhood. And the McGees gave Tony something that Gibbs, even as a surrogate father, could not provide through their acceptance and strong bond of affection.

Shannon and Kelly's voices faded as the tape came to a stop, and he decided to go upstairs and check on the dog. Finding Jethro sleeping in front of the sofa, he decided the dog had the right idea and went upstairs to bed.

The next day, he called the cell number Tony had given him for Brad. "Brad? Gibbs."

_"Hey, Gibbs. You calling about Tony? I thought he and Tim were still on vacation."_

"Get back tonight. Sean McGee?"

_"Did Eileen decide to call Tim and tell him?"_

"Nah. Called me. I'm picking them up at Reagan and telling them then. She said the hospital wouldn't let her put Tony on the visitor list. You get that fixed?"

_"As fixed as it's going to get. They're pretty strict about immediate family members only. I got Tony's name added, but that's stretching the rules pretty far. We've got a few people here who still don't think DADT should be repealed. If they want to keep Tony out, they've got DoD policy on their side, even though Sean's the one in the military."_

Gibbs cursed.

_"I don't like it any more than you do. I didn't tell Tony at the time, but that's one reason I pushed him to make Tim his medical proxy. That overrides rules about family members, as you know from your many trips here. I didn't want to make a big issue of it, though, because they both had enough to worry about."_

"I'm bringing them by tonight. By the time their plane lands and they grab their gear, it'll probably be 2000 before we get there, maybe 2030. That too late?"

_"I'll leave a note for the night nurse that they've just returned from out of the country and should be allowed in. I'll stick around, too. If there's a problem, you guys know where to find me."_

"Thanks, Brad. Appreciate it."

_"Anything I can do to help, Gibbs. I want to get a look at Tony anyway, see how he's doing."_

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Tim stretched his legs into the aisle in a vain attempt to make more room for Tony in the cramped row. While the commercial flight had amenities like temperature control and flush toilets, at the moment he missed the leg room aboard a Navy C-130. The precautionary Dramamine he had taken made him drowsy, and his head slipped to rest on Tony's shoulder.

"You OK, McQueasy?" His partner's hand wrapped around his own.

Tim nodded sleepily. "M'fine." He could feel Tony's shoulder shake as he laughed.

"Good thing Abby's picking us up. She'll wake you up."

"Don't laugh just yet." Tim snuggled closer. "She's had two weeks to find even more alternative therapies for you to try. Every time I'm in the lab, she has a stack of printouts and links for me. Her trunk will be full with everything she's dug up since we've been gone."

He felt Tony rest his head on top of his. "Why did we introduce her and Keith again?" his partner asked.

"We didn't — we ran into him on a coffee and Caf-Pow run, remember? She started asking about that hinky breath thing from her yoga class, and he was hooked." Tim closed his eyes as the Dramamine pulled him closer to sleep.

"Well, you were interested after just hearing her voice on the phone," Tony said. "Can't really blame Keith for his good taste, can you? I think he's even more McSmitten than you were."

"Did he get a tattoo before their first date?" Tim smiled at the memory. "Oh, the expression on your face when I told you that."

"What? You were such a probie then, and all of a sudden you're telling me you got a tat to impress a girl you'd never even met."

"It worked. Abby liked it."

"She's not the only one. And I'm glad you got her to date you — if she hadn't spilled the beans about your bedroom prowess later, I never would have started thinking about you that way."

Tim felt Tony's thumb caressing his hand. "Mmmmm. S'nice. Don't want to go back to work."

"Sleep, Tim."

And Tim fell asleep snuggled against Tony.

His partner didn't wake him until they approached Reagan National. Tim tried to stretch his long limbs in the confined space but was only marginally successful. When Tony twisted from side to side, Tim could hear the cracking sound as his vertebrae shifted against one another.

"You'd think those yoga classes Abby and Keith talked you into would get rid of your Rice Krispies spine," he said as they waited for the plane to touch down.

"Hey, my knees don't pop anymore. I'll take what I can get," Tony said. "Just wait and see how many of your joints make noise when you're my age."

"Yeah, yeah," Tim replied. When the plane taxied to the gate and the seatbelt sign was finally turned off, he stood to get his bag from the overhead bin. "Come on, let's get out of here and get home."

When they got down to baggage claim, Tony headed for the carousel while Tim looked for Abby or Sarah. He frowned when Gibbs walked over.

"Boss?"

"Hey, Tim. Where's Tony?"

Tim felt his gut start to churn. Though Gibbs used Tony's first name as often as his last, he almost never called him anything but McGee.

"Boss, where's Abby? Is she OK?" He led the way through the baggage claim to where Tony was waiting for their luggage.

"She's fine. Told her I'd get you." As they walked up to Tony, Tim could see he wasn't the only one surprised to see their boss.

"Boss? We catch a case?"

"No."

"What's going on? Is something wrong with Sarah?"

"No. Sarah's fine." He paused and for a moment, Tim thought he'd never tell them the reason for his unexpected appearance. "It's your dad."

"Dad? What's wrong?" He felt Tony wrap an arm around him.

"He was fine when we dropped off Jethro before we left," Tony said.

"Eileen called me yesterday. He's at Bethesda with pneumonia. Brad says he'll be there about a week. Abby doesn't know. I said I'd pick you up, take you over there."

"Is he OK?" Tim knew that was a dumb question. If his dad was OK, he wouldn't be at Bethesda for a week, and Gibbs wouldn't be calling him Tim and picking them up to go directly to the hospital from the airport. But he didn't know what else to say.

Gibbs just looked at him. "I can't say he's fine, but Brad doesn't seem too worried. He's in a restricted unit because of the pneumonia, like Tony was after the plague, but he's not in ICU." He reached out and put a hand on Tim's shoulder. The young agent knew it was meant to be reassuring, but it just reminded him that this was not good. It didn't take a teammate's death for Gibbs to be nice, but in serious situations, it just highlighted how worried he was.

"Tony, we need to-"

"Relax, McGee. I'll drive you over. I promised your mom. Not breaking that promise."

Tim nodded, not sure what else to say. As Tony and Gibbs pulled their luggage off the baggage carousel, he just stood there, then followed them out to the lot where Gibbs had parked his Charger. He felt like everything was covered in cotton, muffling it. And he didn't think it was the Dramamine. He didn't say a word the entire ride to the hospital.


	3. Chapter 3

As they walked into the hospital, Tony gripped Tim's hand, fingers interlaced. He'd been in and out of Bethesda hundreds of times what with visits to Brad, his own hospital stays, and visits to Gibbs and other team members. But never before had he felt such dread in the pit of his stomach.

Gibbs took them right up to the fifth floor, but the duty nurse stopped them. "Visiting hours are over."

"Tony and Tim McGee to see Sean McGee. They've just gotten back from overseas. Dr. Pitt left word they should be allowed in," Gibbs said.

Tony released Tim's hand and marveled at how Gibbs managed to make them sound like brothers who were home on leave from military duty without saying anything that wasn't true.

The nurse pulled up something on the computer. "Commander McGee is in a restricted room. I can't allow you in there."

Tony felt Tim stiffen next to him and opened his mouth to beat him to the punch. "Ma'am, we just got back, and Special Agent Gibbs met us at the airport to tell us Dad was in the hospital. Brought us straight here — we haven't even been to see Mom and Sarah yet. I know it's late, but even if we could just look in to see him."

The floor nurse shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I really can't allow it."

"You two stay here." Gibbs jerked his head in the direction of the chairs in the waiting area. "Brad said he'd be here in case this happened."

Tony thought about going to find Brad instead - he could navigate his way to the doctor's office in his sleep - but Tim needed him. He hadn't said a word since they'd followed Gibbs out of the airport, and now he was just standing there, not even arguing with the nurse. He went to nod at Gibbs, but the former Marine was already gone. Instead, he put his hand on Tim's shoulder and directed him silently to the waiting room.

Tim sat mechanically and slumped in the chair. Tony opened his mouth, but realized he had no words. He settled for putting his arm around Tim, pulling him close until his head rested against Tony's shoulder. He could feel Tim shiver and knew it wasn't just because DC was so much colder than the Caribbean. Tony used his thumb to rub small circles on Tim's shoulder. Sean's illness was reminding him that all the precautions Brad was having him take weren't just because Brad was a bigger mother hen than Tim. It could just as easily be him in there. He forced his mind away from that depressing train of thought. Tim was having enough trouble without him moping around. One of them had to stay positive. He pulled himself out of his head and noticed Tim was trembling. He reached his free hand over to take Tim's. "It's going to be OK," he whispered in Tim's ear. "You know how Brad gets. I'm sure he just had your dad admitted to play it safe."

"If that's all it is, Gibbs wouldn't be acting nice," Tim replied, voice barely audible.

Tony didn't know what to say to that because Tim was right. Gibbs was only nice when things were bad. He settled for squeezing Tim's hand, trying to comfort him.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Gibbs saw the light shining from Brad's office door and found the doctor sitting at his computer, wearing a Michigan sweatshirt pushed up to his elbows.

"Brad."

The doctor looked over. "Gibbs. Is this a social call to kill time or do you need reinforcements?"

"Reinforcements. The nurse isn't letting them in because visiting hours are over, and Tim needs to see his dad. He hasn't said a word since I told him Sean was in here. I don't know if he'll be any better afterward, but I know he needs to see him, needs to satisfy that computer of a brain with actual data."

Brad stood. "Come on, let's go." He led the way down the darkened halls back toward the ward.

"Thanks for sticking around," Gibbs said.

"No worries," Brad said. "I've got a big report due at the end of next week on the NIH study Sean's participating in. I'm going to be pulling a lot of long hours here this week finishing it up."

"Damn paperwork. Worst part of a case."

He saw Brad nod. "This report will determine if the study continues though. I know it's working, and the NIH person overseeing the treatment knows it's working, but we need to document everything to prove the protocol is effective and to keep the study alive." He sighed. "I'd rather focus all my attention on Sean, Tony, and the others who need my help, but some things aren't negotiable."

It was Gibbs' turn to nod. "JAG needs our reports for court. Rather be out catching dirtbags, but they need the files to keep them out of uniform and off the streets.

They walked onto the ward, so rather than reply, Brad turned to the floor nurse, Lt. Haltermann.

"Dr. Pitt," she greeted him. Her words were formal, but her tone indicated that was because they were on duty.

"Evening, Amy," Brad said. "I need to talk to you about Commander McGee's visitors here."

Gibbs figured it would go over better if he wasn't there to witness Brad persuading the nurse to bend the rules, so he walked over to where his agents sat.

"DiNozzo, McGee."

"Yes, Boss?" They spoke in unison, and Tony released McGee, both men straightening up.

"Brad's talking to the nurse now in hopes he can get you in to see Sean in a bit."

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said.

"Jethro's at my place. When we get done here, I'll drop you at home. You can come by tomorrow to get him."

"Yes, Boss," McGee said.

Before Gibbs could say anything else, Brad walked over.

"Tim, why don't you go see your dad? He's down the hall in room 508." Tony started to follow, but Brad stopped him. "Tony, how about you let me check you out now? Then maybe we can move you back to your regular Thursday appointment. It will only take a few minutes, but we'll have to go down to my office. Gibbs can stay here, and if we're not done by the time Tim finishes his visit with Sean, they can meet us there."

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Tim walked down the hallway, his steps slowing as he approached his dad's room. He wanted, needed, to see his dad. But he remembered visiting Tony here as he recovered from the plague, remembered seeing his partner coughing so hard every tendon in his neck stood out, hearing the thick, wet sounds of his struggle to clear his lungs and breathe. He'd been young enough, green enough then that when he heard that Gibbs had insisted Tony would live, he knew the senior agent would survive. That was when he'd thought nothing on earth defied Gibbs. Not for the first time, Tim was thankful that was before Kate had been killed. If Ari had shot her before Tony had been infected, Tim didn't know if he would have had the faith in Gibbs' insistence that Tony would survive. He didn't know if Tony would have believed Gibbs when the team leader told him "You. Will Not. Die." One of the few things Abby had managed to convince him of in all her lecturing and theorizing about alternative medicine was that the mind was as much a tool as the body in some cases, and Tony's plague recovery was the best example of that he had ever seen. With that in mind, he squashed down his worries. They could wait until he was home and sitting in front of his typewriter. Right now, here, he needed to be for his dad what Gibbs had been for Tony, needed to make sure his dad believed everything would be fine. And if the role reversal frightened him even more than the pneumonia, nobody else needed to know that.

He looked in the room to see his dad sitting up in bed, reading. Tim knocked lightly on the door and walked in.

"Tim, you're back!" His dad tucked a marker in the book, and Tim felt his ears burn as he realized his dad was reading Rock Hollow. He focused on his father, cataloguing his appearance. He was paler than normal, with shadows under his eyes. His face was a bit thinner, but he still looked comfortingly like the powerful naval officer Tim had grown up knowing.

"We just got in a little while ago," Tim said. "Tony's with Brad, getting checked out to make sure he's doing OK." He moved to sit in the chair by the bed. "How are you doing?"

Sean opened his mouth to talk, but started coughing instead. Tim poured a glass of water and had it ready once he finished. Years of working with Tony and months of living with him had made him an expert, and this bout didn't sound as bad as what Tim had feared.

Once he was done coughing and had caught his breath, Sean sipped the water slowly before speaking. "I've been better," he admitted. "I think Brad's just being extra-cautious keeping me here as long as he plans to. Other than pumping me full of antibiotics yesterday when I first came in, most of my medicine has been pills I can take fine on my own." He pressed his hands into the mattress and pushed himself up straighter. "So, how was your vacation? You look like you got some sun."

Tim laughed. "We spent a lot of time on the beach. I think Tony would have camped out there if we could have. I normally look like Caspar's cousin next to him anyway, but now his tan will make even Ziva look pale. The only reason I didn't come back sunburned is because he set an alarm so I could put on more sunscreen every hour on the hour. All my gear reeks of sunscreen."

Sean smiled. "That's why your mother and I went to the mountains for our honeymoon," he said. "Much less sun to worry about, or at least more trees to block it out."

"Yeah, but I knew how much Tony loved the beach when I bought the tickets," Tim said. He couldn't help but yawn.

"Rough day traveling?"

"Dramamine," Tim said. "I slept the entire flight back." He turned the conversation back to his dad. "So, when did you get sick?"

His dad's ears pinkened. "About a week ago I started feeling some heaviness in my lungs, but tried to ignore it. Brad said if I'd come to him then, the antibiotics probably would have stopped enough of it that I would still have been sick, but wouldn't have ended up here."

Tim scrubbed his face with one hand. "Gibbs and Ducky are going to have to give Mom lessons."

"Huh?"

"You think I don't go through this with Tony? He's the same way, doesn't want to admit something's not right, doesn't want to say he's getting sick. Gibbs and I tag-team him until he goes down to see Ducky, and then we make him do whatever Ducky decides he needs." Tim paced. "Dad, it's great that you're tough. When I was in middle school, that's what kept me going when the kids at school would bully me. I knew if you could fight overseas in the Gulf War, I could handle a few jerks in the hallways. But there's a line between tough and stupid, and pretending you're fine isn't being tough."

"Tim, I-"

"No, Dad. Sure, this time you're going to be OK. I can tell by your cough. I've gotten to be an expert on those. You don't sound like Tony did when he had the plague, when we thought we were going to lose him until Gibbs ordered him not to die." He stopped pacing and stood at the foot of the bed, waiting for his dad to look up. "This is a different kind of battle, and you need to listen to Brad. He's your CO on this."

His dad kept his eyes locked on Tim's and slowly nodded. "Understood." He looked away and slumped back into his pillows.

Tim closed his eyes and mentally head-slapped himself. He walked around the bed and sat down on the edge, hugging his dad. "Sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to yell. It's just..."

"I know. Don't apologize, Tim."

"Because it's a sign of weakness?"

"No, because I deserved that." He pulled away. Tim just looked at him, green eyes like his own staring back. "I fought going to see anybody about my cough until Ducky insisted I see Brad. And now I've been going, been listening, mostly because of Tony. I don't want to do anything to get him sick. But all this time I haven't allowed myself think about the fact that this is happening to me. It's been easier to pretend I'm just doing this for you and for him, that it doesn't really affect me at all. I need to face reality."

"Just remember, we're all here facing it with you," Tim said.

"I know."

Tim got up to leave. "I'd better go before I get kicked out," he said. "Besides, you need to rest."

His dad stopped him. "Thanks, son. I needed to hear that."

Tim smiled and nodded. "Just don't make me sic Gibbs on you."

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Tony followed Brad into the exam room across from his office and stripped his shirt off. He winced at the cold metal of the stethoscope. "You really need to warm that up first, Brad," he said. "My skin's not used to cold."

"I can tell," Brad said. "With that tan, you look like you just got back from the mother of all Spring Breaks."

Tony wiggled his eyebrows. "Oh, it was much hotter than Spring Break. Especially your pathetic Wolverine excuse for a Spring Break, which is even worse than your fashion sense." He flinched as Brad pressed the cold metal into him a bit harder than normal, but followed Brad's instructions to breathe. "Everything sound good in there?" he asked as they finished.

"Better than when you left," Brad said. "Let's switch back to Thursday this week. Although I expect I'll see you at least a couple of times before then."

"Yeah, about that," Tony said as he pulled the shirt back over his head. "You could have done this up on the ward. You didn't have to drag me all the way down here for that."

Brad finished notating Tony's file before replying. "True."

"Don't screw with me, Brad. Did you really need to check me out, or did you just need to get me out of there so you didn't have to tell us Nurse Ratchet wouldn't let me in to see Sean?"

"Guess I need more experience before I can fool a trained federal investigator," Brad said. "You're right, she wasn't going to let you in. She pulled Sean's visitor list while Gibbs came down to get me. After Eileen talked to me, I got you added, so there won't be any trouble during regular visiting hours. But once she saw your last name wasn't McGee, she wasn't about to let you in after hours. And I didn't want to risk having her go up the chain of command and getting the head nurse involved. The one on duty tonight thinks DADT doesn't go far enough."

"Thanks, Brad. Is there going to be a problem when we come by tomorrow?"

"Shouldn't be. Like I said, you're on the list. Plus now that Tim knows what room Sean's in, you won't even have to check in at the nurses' desk — you can just go straight to his room." The doctor tucked his stethoscope away. "So, how was your vacation?"

Tony proceeded to tell stories until Gibbs and Tim showed up. Tim was talking again, but it was clear he was still upset. So even though they were both tired from traveling, when they got home Tony chased Tim into the study. Once he heard the typewriter keys going in the fast rhythm he associated with Tim's free-writing, he settled on the piano bench and started playing. It was a good three hours later before the men stopped pressing their respective keys and called it a night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit before I posted this chapter originally, Brian Dietzen tweeted: "Beautiful day today! Time to get in a pool and enjoy the sun that'll burn me in under 20 minutes! Seriously... under 20 minutes. I am PALE!" I ROFLed and wondered if he'd read this chapter somehow. Brian, this is for you, Sean, Pauley and the rest of us pale folks. :)

Between picking up Jethro, visiting Sean at Bethesda, and doing all the chores that needed to be done after two weeks away, Sunday passed in a blur. Monday morning, Tony drove them into work.

"When I called to let Allison know we were back and needed her services again, I asked her to take Jethro for a second walk this evening so we don't have to rush home from Bethesda," Tony said. "Now we just have to hope we don't catch a hot case today."

Tim nodded. "At least until after we wade through our e-mail."

"Just do what Gibbs does — ignore it."

Tim just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like I could get away with that. Everybody uses e-mail to reach me. Only the clueless e-mail Gibbs."

"Well, true. Speaking of Gibbs, we should get him some coffee for picking us up and keeping Jethro."

They decided to pick up a cup of tea for Ziva as well, so both men had their hands full when the walked into the bullpen. A few agents were clustered around the TV behind Tony's desk watching the weather forecasters predicting the biggest storm in 30 years, but they scattered when Tony put his coffee down and slid his backpack to the floor. Gibbs was nowhere to be found, but Ziva was sitting at her desk.

"You are back," she said. "Tony, did you not let McGee on the beach? He looks like a goat."

"Ghost, Ziva," Tim said, smiling, as he put the cup of tea on her desk. "I got plenty of beach time, but Tony made me wear so much sunscreen that I still smell like coconut."

"Would you rather have a sunburn, McPasty?" Tony retorted as he set Gibbs' coffee on the man's desk. "Abby's the only person I know with paler skin than you, and I swear she's part vampire."

"Only part?" Tim said. He booted up his computer and started cleaning out his e-mail. "So did we miss any good cases?"

"I have been working on this cold case," Ziva said. "I have not pulled all the strings together yet, but I think it is may be hotter than we thought."

"Threads, Zee," Tony said. "Pulling strings is something completely different."

"And you wonder why I have trouble with English?" she said. "No matter what I am pulling, I believe I have found a connection between this case and two others."

"Good work, David," Gibbs said as he walked into the bullpen. "DiNozzo, with David. McGee, Abby's been stumped by an encryption since Wednesday. Get down to the lab and help her."

"On it, Boss."

Tim grabbed a Caf-Pow on his way down to the lab. When he walked in, Abby was at her lab table bent over a laptop.

"Gibbs said you need a hand, Abbs," he said as he put the Caf-Pow down.

"Timmy, you're back!" She wrapped her arms around him. "Did you have a good trip? You're almost blonde! That much sun isn't good for you, McGee."

"Abbs, do I look like I got anything on my skin? Tony made sure I was smothered in sunscreen," he said, extricating himself. "He's the one with the tan. Ziva looks like you next to him. So what's this encryption?"

"Something Cassie's team over at the Pentagon sent me." Abby moved aside so he could sit in front of the laptop and filled him in on what she had already tried. "Vance said if I didn't get this cracked today, he was going to send it down to the sub-basement, and they don't know anything about crime scenes and crime evidence."

"I know, Abbs, I used to work down there, remember?" Tim talked even as he started trying to break the encryption. "They're good with computers, but they could all benefit from a trip to FLETC."

"So did you get back OK?" she asked. "When Bossman called and said he would pick you guys up, he sounded even more cryptic than normal. You didn't get stuck someplace, did you?"

"No, we got in fine. We didn't know Gibbs was picking us up until we saw him at the airport." He sighed. "My dad's at Bethesda with pneumonia, and Gibbs volunteered to pick us up and tell us about it. I guess Mom called him to figure out if she should call us while we were on vacation or not, and they decided not."

"Oh, no, McGee! That's not good. Your dad's going to be OK, right? Why didn't Sarah mention this? When did he go in? Is Brad taking good care of him?" She got up and started pacing.

"Abby, it's OK. He went in Friday. Brad said he should be there through the end of the week, but I think it's mostly to keep an eye on him."

"All week?" Abby said. "But that means he'll be stuck there into next week. They're talking about three or four feet of snow on Friday, maybe even as early as Thursday night. Do you know how much snow that is?"

Tim stifled a laugh. "My dad was stationed in Boston during the Blizzard of '78, when I was just a few months old, and I've seen the pictures. My mom couldn't even take me outside because the snow was almost as high as the roof of the car."

"Well, OK, so you know, but I grew up in the South. That's more snow than I've seen in my entire life. I couldn't believe we got as much as we did in December, and that was only two feet. Do you know how tall four feet is? That's past my waist. That's even past your waist."

Tim snorted and put a finger to Abby's lips. "Relax, Abs," he said. "It'll be fine. And if my dad has to get stuck somewhere during the blizzard better at Bethesda than at home, especially since he hasn't learned to tell us when he's not feeling well."

"What do you mean, Timmy?"

"He started feeling sick a week or so before he finally told Brad about it, so I told him I was going to have Gibbs and Ducky give Mom lessons on doctor-related nagging." McGee was typing away the entire time he talked. "Got one level unlocked. Looks like I've got another level still to crack."

"McGee, you rock!" Abby hugged him.

"Thanks, Abbs, but don't say that until I crack this second level. This took some serious skills. Whose laptop is it?"

"One of the members of the Pentagon's encryption unit. He killed himself a week ago — Ducky confirmed that right away — and Cassie and her team have been trying to figure out why, make sure he wasn't being blackmailed. They haven't found anything, but since his laptop was locked up tighter than Leavenworth, there's a lot they haven't been able to check." As Major Mass Spec started beeping, she walked over to check the results. "You should be glad you were on vacation. Vance has been making noises about getting you to do this since I couldn't crack it after the first day."

"He was NOT going to call while we were on vacation," Tim said. "Was he?"

"I think he would have if Gibbs hadn't threatened to sic Ziva on him." Abby bounced, pigtails flying. "I thought we might finally have a winner in the pool."

"Gibbs setting our ninja after Vance doesn't count as him taking a swing at Vance," Tim said. "I don't know who had last week in the pool, but they won't win that easily."

"Jimmy had last week," Abby said. "I think Balboa has this week."

"You realize if either of them find out you're running that pool, you're dead," Tim said. "There, got it!"

"Sweet!" Abby pushed him aside. "Let's see what Capt. Tattersall is hiding."

While she sorted through the hard drive, Tim walked over to check out the fingerprints running on the plasma. "What are these for?" he asked.

"Ziva's cold case," Abby said. "She wanted to see if they matched any other open cases."

"No luck ye-" He was interrupted when Abby let out a yell and punched in a number on her phone.

"Cassie, it's Abby. I've got it."

As she filled the Pentagon team leader in on the details of Tattersall's illegal gambling, Tim just listened to her expressive voice.

Ten minutes later, that same voice was driving him nuts, as Abby was telling him about all the alternative therapies she had researched while they were gone. He at least gave her credit for knowing her audience — each therapy had scientific studies to back it up, many published by the National Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine at NIH, the same department funding Brad's study. But by the third treatment, he could feel his brain starting to fry.

"Abby, stop," he said. "I appreciate this, but you really need to tell Tony this."

"But I'm too busy to get out of the lab, and Tony can't come down," she said. "So I have to tell you. Here, take these." She dumped a stack of papers in his arms.

Tim opened his mouth to argue, then remembered who he was talking to. "I'll show him. I can't promise he'll read them — this is Tony we're talking about, and scientific studies are not his thing — but I'll give them to him."

A few minutes later, he walked into the squad room and dumped a foot-high stack of papers on Tony's desk, where they landed with a thump.

"What the-?"

"From Abby. This is what happens when we're not around for two weeks to listen to her research. Correction. This is what happens when I'm not around to listen and pass them on to you." Tim smirked. "Any chance you can ask Brad to lift his ban on you going into the lab?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "So I can be subjected to this? You can't complain about it one minute, then ask me to go down there voluntarily."

"Sure I can."

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

While Tim was downstairs working with Abby, Gibbs walked into the bullpen just as Tony finished reading through Ziva's notes on the cold case. "DiNozzo."

"Yes, Boss?"

"Go see Ducky. He wants to check you out. Told him Brad looked at you Saturday night, but he wants to see for himself."

"On it, Boss." He headed to Autopsy, where he found Ducky and Palmer relaxing with a cup of tea.

"Isn't tea time in the afternoon?" he asked, hoisting himself onto the nearest table.

"Merely a matter of fortification before we tackle this mountain of requisition forms," Ducky said. "I had hoped we might get to them while you boys were gone and Jethro and Ziva were on cold cases, but Cassie and Balboa kept us rather busy." He poured a third cup and handed it to the agent.

"You know, Brad checked me out Saturday, and he said I could wait until Thursday to come in rather than today as we'd originally planned."

"On the weekend?" Palmer looked up. "You're not-"

"Relax, Jimmy," Tony said. "I'm fine. Tim's dad is at Bethesda with pneumonia, and we stopped by to see him. Brad made sure he was around since it was after visiting hours, just to make sure we could get in. Good thing, too. The nurse didn't want to let us in. Actually, she didn't let me-"

"Anthony?"

"Look, can you forget I just said that?" he asked, mentally kicking himself.

"Anthony." Ducky just looked at him.

Tony cursed. "It's not... Tim doesn't know. Brad hauled me off to his office on the pretense of checking me out. It's only because I guessed that he even admitted the nurse wasn't going to let me in because I'm not family — at least not in the eyes of the law and the DoD. Tim has enough on his mind dealing with his dad being sick, and I didn't want to add another thing. He's doing enough McWorrying for both of us right now. Besides, Brad put me on the visitor's list, so it wasn't a problem when we went by yesterday during normal visiting hours." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Tim's been one of my medical proxies since I got sick, he and Gibbs, so it's not like he'd have a problem if I were in Sean's position."

"Oh, Anthony," Ducky said. "It sounds like your time since returning from vacation has been far from relaxing."

Tony just hopped down and dragged a chair away from the desk in the corner, joining the two men around the makeshift tea table.

"On to happier topics," Ducky said. "So, tell us about your adventures in the Caribbean. You certainly look as though you spent plenty of time on the beach. Timothy has not come back to us looking like a lobster, I hope?"

"Not a chance," Tony said. "We've been back for two days, and he's complaining he still smells like sunscreen. He's as pasty as Jimmy and Abby."

"Hey!" Palmer said. "Can we help it if we're fair-skinned? It's February, and we've been buried in snow since before Christmas."

"And if it were the middle of summer, you're the only one who might have even a hint of color," Tony retorted. "Abby won't go in the sun — I really think she is part vampire — and Tim can't. He only has two colors — fish-belly white or lobster red."

"Abby's not part vampire," Palmer insisted. "She's just... Abby."

Tony looked at the assistant medical examiner, who was a little pink around the edges. "Another man falls into her web?"

"No, I- I mean- I don't-" Palmer stammered as Ducky's lips twitched, as if holding back a smile.

Tony decided to let his friend off the hook. "It's OK, Palmer. You wouldn't be the first. I think I'm the only one here who hasn't fallen under her spell at some point." He frowned for a second. "I wonder how that happened?"

"Because you'd rather have Tim?" Palmer said.

"Gentlemen, perhaps we should move on to my examination of Anthony," Ducky said. "While I know Jethro has turned a blind eye to some violations of Rule 12, he would not appreciate wholesale discussion of its dissolution."

"OK, Ducky. Go ahead, check me out. Just please warm up the stethoscope first," Tony said as he stripped his shirt off and moved back to one of the empty autopsy tables. "I know your normal patients don't notice, but it's cold."

"Yes, yes, my dear boy," Ducky said, as he held the metal disc in his hands to warm it. The medical examiner proceeded to check many of the same things Brad had Saturday. Tony tried not to fidget, reminding himself that this was better than working on Ziva's cold case. Paperwork was the only thing Tony hated more than working cold cases. He loved finally catching the dirtbags who thought they had gotten away with it, but that happened too rarely. Between those successes, each cold case only served to remind him that for every bad guy they caught, another one had gone free. Not on their team — Gibbs had the highest close rate in the agency, and Tony's close rate while he had been team lead during Gibbs' "retirement" was only slightly lower. But not every team was as good. What could you expect? There was only one Gibbs, and while the team members he trained were the best — Tony knew any one of them could successfully lead their own team — only a few still worked for the agency. Some, like Langer, were dead. Others had been recruited away by higher-profile agencies such as the FBI. A few, like Burley, were still in NCIS, still working cases the way Gibbs taught. Well, no, taught was a misnomer. Gibbs didn't teach. You learned, or you got booted.

"Anthony." Ducky's voice was unusually sharp.

"Huh?" Tony realized he was still sitting on the autopsy table.

"I've been calling you for a full minute," Ducky said. "Where on earth did you disappear to?"

"Sorry, Ducky. My mind must still be on vacation." Tony pulled his shirt on and started buttoning it. "I was thinking about hating cold cases and then I think I got on the Abby train, because I ended up someplace completely different."

"Tim told me one time not to try and understand because her mind works like a pachinko machine," Jimmy said. "She would have threatened to kill him-"

"Right, and leave no forensic evidence," Tony said. "I'd say she needs a new threat, except that one's so darn effective none of us have crossed her yet when she's pulled it out. So why didn't she?"

"We were here, and she was in the lab. Tim and Gibbs couldn't leave because they were..." His voice trailed off and he frowned.

"They were what?" Tony tried to remember a time when Tim and Gibbs were... Oh. "That's when I was on my way to Bethesda with the plague, right?"

Jimmy just nodded. "Yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Tony shrugged. "It happened. The bad memories are the ones where I can't breathe. But there are some good ones, too. Kate lied and said she had the plague so she could stay with me. I think it was the first time we actually appreciated each other, really appreciated each other. And since Ari struck two weeks later, it was just in time. Gibbs told me I wouldn't die, and I believed him when he said it. I met Brad, and we've gotten to be good friends except for on football Saturdays when we hate each other." He smiled. "Don't get me wrong — I still think Hannah Lowell should rot in hell for what she did, and I'm glad Gibbs terrorized that doctor. Well, maybe not glad. He was just doing his job. Still."

Before either Palmer or Ducky could reply, Tony's cell rang. He answered, listened for a second, and flipped it closed. "Gotta go — Gibbs needs me back upstairs."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one and might not seem to relate to the case... but much as PP said everything in the last few episodes of S7 was there for a reason, everything in this story is here for a reason. ;)

When he walked into the bullpen, Gibbs just looked at his desk, where Tony saw a list of names by his phone, presumably related to Ziva's cold case.

"I'll start calling, Boss," he said.

Later that afternoon, Tony was on hold waiting to talk to the CO of one of the petty officers who had been killed in a case similar to the cold case and amusing himself by making faces at Tim, who was scouring databases for other similar crimes. Tim just rolled his eyes and looked away, but Tony could see the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to smile.

When Rick Balboa walked through the bullpen, Tony thought at first he was just on his way to the back elevator until he stopped at Tim's desk.

"Hey, McGee," he said. "Got a minute?"

"Sure, Rick. What's up?" Tim straightened up from his computer search hunch to focus his attention on the other special agent.

"I heard how you hacked right into that laptop that Abby spent all week working on. We've got a couple computers on this new case that look just as tough. Can you give us a hand, since you're just working on cold cases?" At his words, Tony started hoping the lieutenant commander would stay tied up for a few more minutes, long enough for him to continue listening in.

Tim checked his watch. "I can help until we catch a case, but if we don't, I have to leave by 5 today. My dad's at Bethesda with pneumonia, and we're stopping by to see him when we get done here."

Balboa nodded. "Sorry to hear about your dad, McGee. I understand. I'll take whatever help you can give us. Andretti has the most computer experience on my team, but he's nowhere near Abby's level, let alone yours."

Tony stifled a snort. Abby was better at hacking than half of CyberCrimes, and Tim was probably the best in the agency. Heck, he was one of the best in D.C. None of the other teams had an agent with even half Tim's skills. For all Tony bragged about his undercover skills, any of a dozen agents in NCIS could do what he did undercover. Tim, on the other hand, was in a league of his own.

Tony took a moment to set an alarm on his computer to remind him when it was time to leave. Tim wouldn't deliberately forget about visiting Sean - he'd been looking forward to seeing his dad, reassuring himself the senior McGee was doing OK all day - but he got into a completely different headspace when his brain chips were in high gear. Just then, Tony heard a voice in his ear and switched to interviewing the sailor. When he got off the phone 15 minutes later, sure enough, Tim was deep in his McGeeking, and he stayed that way the rest of the afternoon. But then, about five minutes before Tony's alarm was set to go off, Tim surfaced and walked over to talk to Balboa.

Tony sighed silently. He knew Tim was worried about Sean, but now he knew just how worried. Normally nothing could get him to come up for air when he was that deep into a computer. Tony looked over at Gibbs, whose eyes were following Tim across the room. Standing, he walked over to the team leader's desk.

"Boss, we're headed out so we can stop by Bethesda to visit Tim's dad. I think we're supposed to take Sarah back to campus afterward, too."

Gibbs nodded. "Do what you need to. We're bound to catch a case tomorrow or Wednesday. Be tougher to get over there then. Anything I can do to help, let me know. Make sure Eileen knows, too."

Tony nodded as Tim walked back over.

"Boss, I'm not done with the computers for Balboa's team."

"Keep going until we catch a case, McGee," Gibbs said. "For now, get out. Say hi to your folks for me."

"Thanks, Boss," both men said.

"Goodnight, McGee, Tony," Ziva said. "McGee, I hope your father is doing better. If there is anything I can do, please let me know."

"Thanks, Ziva," Tim said.

"Yeah, thanks, Zee," Tony said. "Come on, Tim, let's go." He grabbed the younger man's hand and tugged him toward the elevator.

After fighting traffic for the better part of an hour, the two men finally made it to Bethesda, only to find no parking spots near the entrance.

"Tony, let me drop you off. It's too cold out here for you to be walking around. You can go up, and Dad can grill you to make sure I'm treating you right. Or maybe that you're treating me right." Tony looked over to see a furrow in Tim's forehead.

"McOverthinker, I'll be fine," he said. "I brought my ski mask and everything in case we got called out today. I'll just do my Abominable Snowman impression. Besides, your dad wouldn't grill me. Sarah, maybe. Or your mom. But your dad likes me too much to grill me. Besides, how bad can it be? I survived an interrogation by Eli David, remember? The only father who could scare me in the interrogation room would be Gibbs, and he's much more likely to interrogate you than me."

Tim snorted. "True. He already warned me once about hurting you."

"Really? He does know the only thing you're capable of hurting are dirtbags, right?"

"It was the day he and Jimmy helped me get the piano in. And he's not worried about me being cruel. He just doesn't want me to be careless with you. You've had enough of that in your life." Tim stopped in front of the hospital entrance. "Now get out."

Tony looked over at his partner and saw the worry clear in his eyes. "All right, I'm getting out. But I'll wait for you down here. Don't want your dad to think I'm here alone either because Brad found something wrong or because something happened to you at work." He leaned over and kissed Tim. "Now go park the car and hurry back."

When Tony walked into the hospital lobby, he saw one of the other sailors in Brad's study, a chief petty officer named Steve Jenkins. They had met a few times when Steve's appointment to see Brad was immediately after his own check-up.

"Hey, Steve," Tony said.

"Tony? You're here late." Steve stopped to take a couple of breaths. "Nothing's wrong, is it? Haven't seen you lately."

Tony shook his head. "Just got back from two weeks in the Caribbean, so I haven't been around. And I'm here tonight because my father-in-law is in here with pneumonia."

"He's Academy, right? Another one of Brad's?" Steve again stopped to breathe.

Tony nodded. "Sean McGee."

"Commander McGee. I know him. Served with him..." Another pause for breath. "When he was XO of the Enterprise, right around the time his daughter was born." Steve frowned. "She's got to be almost 20 years younger than you, Tony. The commander's OK with that?"

At that, Tony realized he'd never mentioned one tiny detail to Steve in all the discussions they'd had. Before Tony could answer, Tim walked in and joined them.

"Tim, this is Chief Petty Officer Steve Jenkins. He's another one of Brad's." Tony decided to go for broke. "Steve served with your dad on the Enterprise. Steve, this is my partner, Tim McGee."

Steve sucked in a breath and started coughing. Tim looked over at Tony, that one eyebrow shooting up.

Tony shook his head and pressed his lips together, hoping Tim would take the hint. Fortunately, years with Gibbs had made them both adept at nonverbal communication.

"You OK, Steve?" Tony said.

The sailor scowled, but nodded. "Gotta go." He hurried off before either of the agents could say anything.

"Well, that went well," Tony said. "I should have just introduced you and let him think I worked with my brother-in-law."

"You lost me, Tony." Tim led the way toward the elevator.

"When I mentioned Sean was my father-in-law, he assumed I was married to Sarah and wanted to know if your dad was OK with it because of the age difference. That's when you walked in." As the elevator door opened, Tony motioned Tim in ahead of him.

"Great." Tim sighed. "You know, as great as everybody at NCIS has been, I forget the Navy is a whole different animal sometimes. Especially the sailors my dad's age and older. He's had a lot of years to become open-minded about me. They don't really have that motivation." When the elevator stopped, it was Tim who led the way off. "Let's not mention this to Dad. He's got enough on his mind."

Tony nodded, but the "become open-minded" comment went into his mental filing cabinet. Sometime when things weren't in crisis, he wanted to ask Tim about that. But that could wait until Sean was better.

When they walked into his room, Eileen and Sarah were already there, sitting in chairs by Sean's bed. He was sitting up in bed, his skin color looking a bit better than the day before. Tony's eyes strayed to the monitors by the bed, and he was relieved to see that Sean's numbers looked OK. Not healthy, but a lot better than they could have been. Of course, the idea that he knew what normal and bad readings were and could distinguish them without a medical degree, or even Tim's biomedical engineering background, reminded him just how much time he'd spent getting tested since Hannah Lowell's brain tumor had turned his life upside down. He pushed that aside and settled into the usual caring banter that he'd learned characterized any McGee gathering. Tim seemed to have forgotten Steve's negative reaction to them, if the amount of grief he was giving Sarah was any indication.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of this chapter as the calm before the storm...

That night, Tim was reading in bed when Tony finished his workout and headed for the shower. He'd taken advantage of the lingering improvements in his breathing from two weeks in warm weather to get a full five miles on the treadmill at a good clip. Within a week or two, breathing cold air would drag him back to the three to four miles he'd learned to live with, but he felt like he'd accomplished something to finish the longer distance without wheezing, even if it was on a treadmill.

The bedroom felt cold in contrast to the steamy bathroom, so Tony dove under the covers and pulled them up to his chin, snuggling up to Tim. His partner just chuckled and put his book on the nightstand, sliding down to join Tony.

"You wouldn't be nearly as cold if you wore sweats to bed," Tim said as Tony pulled him close.

"And what would be the point of that, McSexy?" Tony said, sliding his hands under Tim's T-shirt. "They're just going to come off at some point."

Tim smiled. "True." He rolled them over so Tony was draped across him. "So what was the deal with the sailor who served with my dad?"

Tony dropped his head into Tim's neck.

"Tony."

It wasn't the Gibbs stare, but Tony knew he was just as helpless to resist when Tim got that expectant tone in his voice. "His appointment with Brad is after mine sometimes, so we've gotten to know each other. I stand out, since I'm pretty much the only one of Brad's regulars who's younger then your dad. I'd mentioned to Steve a few times that my father-in-law was a sailor at the Academy who was seeing Brad, but I'd never mentioned his name — until tonight. He served with your dad on the Enterprise around the time Sarah was born, so he leaped to the logical conclusion." He buried his head into Tim's neck. "I should have just let him keep thinking that. Considering his reaction today, he'd probably rather see me as a cradle-robber than a-"

"Don't say it," Tim said, putting a hand over his mouth. "Not everybody's going to be OK with our relationship. That's nothing new. If they were, we might have figured out we were interested in each other long before last summer. Remember when Vance's last secretary didn't acknowledge we were there and refused to announce we were when he called us in for a sitrep? He stormed out ready to stab us with his toothpick for being late."

"Yeah, and I'm glad she's gone," Tony said. "I wish Cynthia had stayed on, but I understand why she didn't. But Vance kept Rosemarie around way too long. Considering she disliked Ziva for being Israeli, Abby for being goth, and us for being, well, us, I'm surprised she was willing to work for Vance."

"I'm surprised Vance picked her," Tim said. "And she wasn't half as bad as Zambisi in Legal. He won't even get in the elevator if I'm in there."

Tony rolled his eyes. "No big loss there — the man has the worst bad breath I've ever had the misfortune to smell. Ziva said it was even more potent than Stewart's, that ME we thought framed me."

"True." Tim ran his hands along Tony's sides, his partner's touch relaxing and soothing him.

Tony knew he'd planned to wait until they were through this, until Sean was better, but Tim's touch had relaxed him enough that his internal censor had already drifted off. "What did you mean about your dad earlier?"

Tim sighed. "How did I know you'd pick up on that?"

"Trained federal investigator."

"Well, yeah, there's that." He sighed again, the movement causing Tony to sink a bit, since he was draped over Tim's chest. "What have I told you?"

"Only that your parents knew you liked guys but hadn't met any of your boyfriends. You said they never even met Abby until after you two stopped seeing each other." Tony shifted his weight off of Tim and rolled the younger man on his side so they faced each other. "You never said anything to indicate they weren't OK with it, and I've never seen anything that makes me think that."

At Tim's third sigh, Tony frowned. "We don't have to talk about it."

Tim shook his head. "No, it's OK. It's not anything traumatic. You've told me much worse about your family."

"It's not a contest, Tim," Tony said. "My family's directly responsible for me being pretty screwed up, and that did affect you. Whatever happened between you and your dad doesn't seem to have any long-term effects on you, and by extension, us." He shrugged. "Come on, this is me we're talking about. Forcing soul-baring confessions isn't exactly my style."

"True." Tim smiled. "I don't mean to be all drama queen about this."

"No, that's my department," Tony said.

"I didn't realize I was bi until I was off at college. When you start college at 16, it kind of messes with your self-awareness. I was younger than my classmates by enough that it made a pretty big difference developmentally. I mean, I wasn't even legally an adult until I was a junior, and that was before they had all those Romeo and Juliet clauses in the law that made it OK to have sex if you were just a couple years apart, even if one person was underage. It was hard enough to make friends, much less to ask a girl out on a date, and I didn't want to get anybody in trouble, so I wasn't dating. Then I started to realize I was interested in some of the guys in my dorm." He rolled over on his back. "The next time I went to have dinner with my uncles a couple weeks later, I pulled Uncle Jim aside while Uncle Aiden was putting the kids to bed."

"Aiden is your mom's brother, right?"

Tim nodded. "Somehow it seemed easier to ask Uncle Jim, maybe because I knew he wouldn't say anything to my mom. Uncle Aiden wouldn't have either, I don't think, but I didn't want to ask him that."

"So what did he say?"

"He didn't really say anything, just listened to me talk. About the only thing he said was, no matter who I was seeing, to be careful, and if I had any questions to feel free to ask him or Uncle Aiden." Tim swallowed. "I found out later that Uncle Aiden had heard us talking and stayed out of the way so I wouldn't feel embarrassed. And when I realized a couple of months later that I wasn't just curious, I really did like guys and I still liked women, he introduced me to a friend of his who is bi so I could ask him some questions that they didn't really have answers to, since they're both gay."

"So how did you tell your parents? And if they're OK with your uncles, what did you mean earlier?" Tony interlaced his fingers with Tim's and squeezed.

"With my math and science background, I think my dad had always hoped I would choose the military," Tim said. "He knew Navy wasn't really an option — tough to be a sailor when you can't handle boats — but he figured Marines or Army would be glad to have me, or even Air Force. I wasn't opposed to any of them. I couldn't apply for ROTC because I was too young, so I didn't have to decide until later. Once I realized that wasn't an option unless I wanted to live with DADT, I knew I needed to tell my dad. NIS had become NCIS by then, gone civilian, so I was starting to think that was what I wanted to do. That's why I switched to computer forensics for my master's degree."

"As interesting as this is..."

"I know, get to the point. The point is, that's how I told my parents. When I was home on spring break my junior year, I waited until the end of the week, then told my dad I wasn't going into the military and why. He didn't really have a bad reaction, but I don't know if you could call it a good reaction either. He just... didn't say much. It wasn't really until after I graduated that he let me know he was completely fine with whoever I chose to date." Tim shrugged. "Like I said, nothing traumatic. He just needed some time to adjust. I think part of it is he's the only boy in his family, and I'm his only son, so he figured the family name would pass on through me. But it's not like he ever approved of the women I dated more than the men."

"That might be because a lot of the women you dated — Abby excluded — were kind of psycho," Tony said.

Tim snorted. "There is that. OK, enough seriousness for tonight. Short version, it doesn't surprise me that older sailors and other military personnel aren't nearly as accepting as my dad. He's got a brother-in-law who's gay, he doesn't believe being gay should disqualify you from military service, he thought that long before I told him I was bi, and even he had to come to terms with my orientation. I was just surprised that you knew Steve and he knew Dad was your father-in-law, but he didn't seem to know about us."

It was Tony's turn to shrug. "He had just found out my father-in-law was the Commander McGee he had served under right before you walked in. I think I've just been so cautious about mentioning the men in my life from so many years in law enforcement — the PDs I worked for weren't nearly as accepting as NCIS — that I can carry on entire conversations without mentioning my partner's a guy and not even realize it. I wasn't even aware I hadn't mentioned you until Steve assumed I was married to Sarah, and then you showed up before I had a chance to figure out what to do."

"Is that why I haven't met any of your frat brothers?" Tim raised an eyebrow.

Tony just shook his head. "No, that's because I hardly ever see my frat brothers these days." He sighed. "I mean, think about it, Tim. I'm past 40. Sure, 6 years ago when you joined the team there were some who were still single, still up for a spring break weekend or a night on the town. But at this point, everybody's married with kids. Since I couldn't tell them about Jeanne, as far as they know, I'm still chasing skirts. I didn't want to lie to them about Jeanne, so I just let myself drift away from them at that point. And now they're all talking about kid stuff and juggling babysitters."

Tim pulled him close until their foreheads touched. "I understand," he said, so quiet Tony could barely hear him.

"You do?" Tony said.

Tim nodded. "You'll notice I'm not still in touch with anybody from before I joined NCIS. It's the same thing, but in reverse. The kids I grew up with were obsessing about dates for the senior prom while I was locked in the science lab working on a research project that would help me get into grad school. In college, I was so much younger than everybody that I knew I wasn't ready for at lot of things, and by the time I was, everybody had a picture of me as a shy kid. When my high school classmates were partying senior year of college because now they could legally drink, I was at FLETC learning how to shoot people and collect evidence. Sure, Facebook has gotten me back in touch with some of them. And I guess you could say I'm back on track with the whole settling down and getting married bit, maybe even a little behind. But they're talking about having kids ... or having more kids. We still haven't figured out how to have a dog without a very patient, very flexible dog-walker."

Tony blinked for a second. "You'd make a great dad," he said. "Are you saying you don't want...?"

"I didn't say that," Tim said. "But how many nights did we sleep at NCIS last year? How often do we come home only long enough to sleep?" He sighed. "We both like what we do, and doing what we do isn't exactly family-friendly. You think I don't notice that Vance is the only one of us who's married with kids? And Jackie doesn't work. My mom didn't work when we were little, and I think it was good for us to have her home. I think having one parent home is a good thing, but I also know if either of us quit NCIS to stay home with kids, we'd go crazy."

"And until your McBrain cracks that puzzle, you're not going to bring up the subject," Tony said, the pieces clicking into place. "Just don't forget that adoption agencies aren't going to be too crazy about an old dad, so we can't wait forever. At the risk of sounding like the woman in this relationship, my biological clock is ticking." After Tim finished laughing, Tony pulled the younger man on top of him. "Come on, enough serious stuff for tonight. Let's just go to sleep. You know that after two weeks with no cases, it's not going to last much longer."

Tim nodded and reached over to turn off the light. They quickly settled into a restful sleep. The next morning they were ready for whatever the day might throw at them, including an all-nighter tracking dirtbags.

And yet, by lunchtime, Tony was starting to think he'd been wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, but for all those who've been wondering where the case in this case fic is, wonder no longer.

Ziva's cold case had definitely heated up — the two of them had linked it to five other unsolved NCIS cases, plus Tim had found another dozen civilian cases that appeared to be by the same person. Tim was also still knee-deep in the geek stuff for Balboa's case, in part because he kept stopping to help them as needed. But the team didn't catch a fresh case.

By Wednesday, Tim had to force himself to tune out the cold case discussions Tony, Ziva, and Gibbs were having while he focused on cracking the computers Balboa had asked him to look at. He was glad he could help with a current case, but he'd much rather be working with his team than just assisting another team. It felt too much like those weeks in CyberCrimes when Vance had split them up and sent them to the four corners of the earth.

"Gibbs. I believe I have it," Ziva said.

At the excited tone in her voice, Tim looked up to see Ziva moving to stand in front of the plasma. He joined the rest of the team as she explained how she had found a common number in the background for each of the aliases they believed the suspect had used in the different cases.

"Nine digits," Tim said.

"Probably a Social," Tony said. "Can you...?"

"On it," Tim said, sitting down to access the Social Security database. "Give me about 15 minutes."

He was so deep in his searching, he didn't notice Balboa had walked up until Gibbs joined them.

"Balboa, he's busy," Gibbs said.

"With a cold case," Balboa replied. "Mine's a hot one, but it's getting colder the longer we go without cracking this guy's computers."

"And David's linked this cold case with 17 others. We have a chance to close 18 cases with this, all of them murders," Gibbs said.

Tim resolutely shut out the two team leads as they argued about what he should be doing. Gibbs would win. He always did.

Except by the time he'd found the real owner of the Social Security number Ziva had linked to all the cases and a lead on his current location, Vance had joined the team in the bullpen. Gibbs and Tony stood facing Balboa, with Vance on the side watching all three men.

"Ziva, I've got it!" He sent the information to the plasma. "We're looking for one Jason Paul Andrews, last known address in Fredericksburg. Virginia Employment Commission has him listed as receiving unemployment benefits just last week, so he's either still there or he'll have to file a new address this week to claim them again."

"Good work, McGee," Gibbs said. "Gear up, team."

"Gibbs, I need McGee," Balboa said.

"He's on my team," Gibbs said. "I don't mind if he helps when we aren't working a case, but we have CyberCrimes for a reason. Get one of them to handle it."

"They're a bunch of geeks, not field agents," Balboa said. "They wouldn't have a clue what to look for. We don't have any other agents with McGee's skills."

Tim just grabbed his backpack and joined Tony and Ziva at the entrance to the bullpen. The three agents watched, mostly in silence.

"Isn't this Balboa's week in the pool?" Tony whispered in his ear.

Tim nodded. "If he gets Vance to step in on his side, he might just win it," he whispered back.

But Vance didn't get a chance. Gibbs grabbed his SIG and headed for the elevator, forcing Balboa to move out of his way or get run over.

The director didn't say a word, just watched as the Gibblets turned and followed their boss.

Their suspect tried to run, but Ziva and Tim had cut him off from escaping into the woods behind his house while Tony and Gibbs disabled his car and blocked the street. So by the time they secured him, gathered evidence from his house, and returned to the Navy Yard, it was after 8 p.m. and both Vance and Balboa had already left.

Gibbs looked at the time. "He can sit in lockup overnight. You three go home. DiNozzo, you're seeing Brad in the morning, right?"

Tim looked over as Tony nodded. "Visiting Sean first, then meeting Brad at 0730. Should be in here by 0900."

"McGee, you visiting Sean too?"

Tim shook his head. "I'll go by tomorrow night since we have to take two cars in anyway. Plus my mom's coming down in the evening, so I'll be able to see how she's holding up."

Gibbs nodded. "I'll make sure you get there. You did good work today. Even if we're working a case, I should be able to cut you loose for a bit to go visit."

"Thanks, Boss," Tim said. "Besides, I want to get in here early and finish off those computers for Balboa."

Gibbs just snarled at that, so Tim jerked his head toward the elevator, and Tony followed him out.

Once the doors had closed on the bullpen, Tim turned to Tony. "How much you want to bet Vance and Balboa are waiting for me tomorrow morning?"

"I'm not taking that bet, Tim," he replied. "Especially not since Balboa's got this week in the pool. Did Abby put anything in the rules that said if the person who had that week provoked the punch, they were disqualified from winning?"

Tim shook his head. "Since when are Abby's pools that organized?"

"Good point," Tony replied. As they walked outside, he sniffed at the air. "Smells like snow."

Despite the heroic effort it took, Tim refrained from explaining the phenomenon of southerly winds and ozone production to his partner who wouldn't have appreciated it anyway. "We should make sure we're prepared if the storm comes in as strong as they're predicting and we're called out this weekend."

Tony nodded. "I'll call Allison and ask her to keep Jethro in case we're stuck here on duty all weekend. Your mom has enough to deal with this week."

Tim nodded. "If you do that, I'll pack our kits so we have enough for a few days. If we get that much snow, we won't be able to get home until Monday or Tuesday. The Navy Yard will get cleared, but I think Silver Spring public works is going to be in over their head with this storm."

The next morning, Tim left home before Tony and was at his desk by 0700. Gibbs was already there, and Ziva not far behind.

He finished cracking the computers in just a few minutes, typed up a summary of what he'd found, and e-mailed it to Balboa, who wasn't at his desk.

"McGee, the director wants to see us," Gibbs said.

Tim sighed. "Finishing that argument from yesterday?"

Gibbs glared at him, and Tim got up and followed him. He knew Gibbs wouldn't let Vance move him off the MCRT, so he wasn't really worried. Or so he tried to tell himself.

But he couldn't help the twist in his gut when they walked into Vance's office and found Balboa already there.

"The results are in your e-mail, Balboa," Tim said. "I just finished. Looks like Andretti's hunch was right."

"Agent Balboa, go close that case," Vance said. "I'll keep in mind what we've talked about."

Another twist to the gut. Tim hadn't felt this queasy since the Chimera fiasco. But before Vance could say anything, Gibbs' phone rang. The team leader flipped it open "Yeah, Gibbs."

He listened for a second. "What do you mean, he's missing? Like kidnapped missing? From Bethesda?" After another few seconds, he said, "We'll be right there."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my mom for one little bit of this. It never would have occurred to me that McGee uses his right hand for the mouse instead of his left, but after she pointed out that mousing is the only thing she does right-handed, I started watching for it on the show because I was curious.

While Tony was in the downstairs bathroom tying his tie, Tim stuck his head in. "I'm leaving. Jethro's upstairs. Tell my dad I said hi and that I'll see him and Mom tonight if we can sneak over before the storm rolls in. Oh, and can you check with Brad to see how Dad's really doing? He won't BS you, and he knows you're part of the family."

Tony finished arranging the silk around his neck and turned to face Tim. "I'll get the details," he promised. "And you know Gibbs will let us go over if we're not chasing a hot case. Even Balboa can't stop him."

"I should be done with that work for him this morning, so it shouldn't be an issue," Tim replied. "I never thought I'd say this, but I wish I was working cold cases with you and Ziva."

"Speaking of cold cases…" Tony bit his lip as he considered the proposition he was about to make. "I was wondering if you were absolutely set on one of us staying home full-time with kids. It's just…" He forged on without giving Tim a chance to interrupt, "I know your mom did and Jackie does, but you said yourself that either of us would be likely to go crazy if we tried. And there are plenty of kids who grow up just fine in families where both parents work."

Tim leaned against the door jam. "The ticking of your biological clock keeping you up?" he asked in an attempt to inject some levity into the topic and hopefully ease the uncharacteristic nervousness he saw in his partner's eyes.

"Look, I know it's not like we're going to adopt a kid tomorrow, but I just thought –"

"It's okay. I wasn't trying to make fun." Tim reached out to hold Tony's hands in his. "So tell me what you're thinking."

Taking a moment to re-order his thoughts, Tony looked into those sea-glass eyes that were focused on his. "Okay. Here it is. We both agree that our schedules are too crazy to be good parents, but neither of us is really equipped to stay home full-time either. So I was thinking that maybe if one of us… if I were to look into transferring to, say, the Cold Case squad, I could at least work regular hours that would provide some stability for a kid. What do you think?" He held his breath and waited for Tim's reaction.

"I… Honestly? I'm stunned. You love the MCRT and working for Gibbs. It would make more sense for me to transfer back to CyberCrimes. Not to mention Vance is likely to kick me down there anyway at this rate," he said, trying to force down the bitterness at having the decision taken out of his hands.

"You hate it down there, and Gibbs isn't going to let Vance do anything you're not fully on board with." He glanced at his watch, realizing they both had to head out soon. Not to mention he wasn't ready to burden Tim with the idea that his own health was also a strong consideration in his idea of moving to the slower-paced Cold Case unit. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out." Tony pulled Tim in for a quick kiss. "Go on, get Balboa out of your and Gibbs' hair before he ends up winning the pool. Ducky's got next week; I'd much rather he win it."

"Considering Vance is a boxer, it's only fair Ducky benefits since he's going to have to patch them up," Tim said. "See you later."

Tony was out the door about 15 minutes after Tim, and he headed toward Bethesda. It should have been a quick trip even with morning traffic, but there was a wreck on East-West Highway, and traffic was backed up past Chevy Chase, where none of the side streets went anywhere. Tony resigned himself to sitting in traffic, at least until he got to Connecticut and could cut up to the hospital that way. He checked the clock on the dash and realized he might have to stop by to see Sean after his appointment with Brad, depending on how quickly the traffic jam cleared up.

Even with the radio going, Tony couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to Sean and what the future held for his father-in-law and for himself. He hadn't wanted to dump this on Tim, not with everything else going on, but seeing Sean reminded him that this wasn't as simple as a through-and-through or a stabbing. Those would heal, leaving only a scar behind. This, maybe not so much.

He tried not to think of all the information he knew about pneumonia and its effects on the lungs, how other sailors under Brad's care fared when they got sick. Brad was among the best in the country at this, but he couldn't always overcome reality. And reality was that Sean, like many sailors his age, had badly compromised lungs. His quality of life had already been compromised, even before he ended up in the hospital. At this rate, he might not even pass his next fitness test. Before too many more years, he would have trouble living a normal life, and he would probably die long before Tim and Sarah were ready to lose their dad. Not for the first time, he wondered how his own father and grandfather — to say nothing of his uncle — could skate through life without a care while good men like Sean and Gibbs had suffered so much just because they chose to serve their country, not their wallets. Gibbs had turned his loss into something positive, though Tony knew he would give anything to have Shannon and Kelly back. Sean was still coming to terms with his new reality, and Tony hoped he would find as much value in his new path as Gibbs had.

Tony and Sean had grown close since Sean had started going to Brad back in the fall, and Tony knew much more about Sean's health than the man shared with either Tim or Eileen. And Sean knew as much about Tony's own health as Tim, Ducky and Gibbs. There was something comforting about having another person who knew firsthand what it was like, understood the challenges and the fears.

Tony shuddered as he remembered his own bout of pneumonia after the plague, the endless hacking and coughing, the struggle to breathe, the feeling that he was drowning in his own body. And afterward, living with the scarring in his lungs, the diminished capacity that he would always struggle with. Before the plague, he was in great shape. Maybe not his peak, not as good as when he was a I-A college athlete in a nationally ranked program, but in better shape than 90 percent of men his age. He used to have one of the best scores in the agency on the field qualifying tests, second only to that crazy triathlete in Florida who was on Burley's team. Now he was just middle of the pack, and he was pretty sure that when they did their requalifying tests next year, Tim would do better on everything except maybe the firearms proficiency test. Even Tim's score on that had improved the past couple of years. After Gibbs had to shoot Michelle with his left hand after the traitor controlling her shot Gibbs' trigger finger, Tim and Tony had spent extra time on the range working on shooting with both hands. Each was still better with his dominant hand, but Tim's right-handed shooting was a lot closer to Tony's than Tony's left-handed aim was to Tim's. Tony put it down to all the mouse work Tim did with his right hand — he had to have developed some level of control to be able to make computers sing the way he did.

When the traffic finally started flowing again, just before the turnoff for Connecticut, Tony made himself focus on the road. A quick glance at the clock showed him Brad was going to have to come first this morning. He could stop and see Sean afterward. Gibbs would understand.

Sure enough, by the time he got to Bethesda, he had to rush to park so he could make it to Brad's office in time.

Except Brad wasn't there. His office was locked, and there were papers and files in the outside wall pocket that hadn't been there over the weekend.

Tony walked down the hall to the corpsman's desk.

"I've got an appointment with Dr. Pitt this morning, but he doesn't seem to be in," he said.

The corpsman, a seaman, looked younger than Tim had when Tony had first met him in Norfolk. "He hasn't checked in yet, sir," the kid said. "He's usually in well before now, though."

Tony nodded. "I know." He had a thought. "Can I use your phone to dial another room in the hospital?"

The seaman's eyes widened, and he hesitated. Tony felt his gut churn and did what he normally wouldn't, pulling out his ID folder. "Agent DiNozzo, NCIS."

"Is Dr. Pitt in trouble?" The seaman pushed the phone across the desk to Tony.

"I hope not, kid." He dialed Sean's room number.

_"McGee."_

"Dad, it's Tony," he said. "Have you seen Brad this morning?"

_"No. Why? Isn't he with you?"_

"He's not here. The corpsman said he hasn't checked in. He knew I was planning to visit you before seeing him, at least until I got stuck in traffic, so I thought he might be up there with you."

_"Sorry, Tony. Is everything OK?"_

"I'm sure it is," he said, knowing he was lying through his teeth. "He probably just got stuck in the same traffic jam I did or something."

Except as Tony finished up the call with Sean, he knew Brad lived in the opposite direction of Bethesda, so he wouldn't have been affected by the tie-up. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he dialed Brad's work number first.

_"You've reached Dr. Pitt. Please leave a name, number, and reason for calling, and I'll return your call as quickly as possible."_

"Brad, it's Tony. Where are you? Are you OK?" He hung up and punched the speed-dial number for Brad's personal cell. This one went right to voicemail.

_"It's Brad. I'm out with Angelina. Leave me a message, unless you're a Buckeye. Go Blue!"_

Tony couldn't suppress his usual snort at the doctor's voicemail. "Hey, Wolverine. What are you doing, ditching me for Angelina? Call me ASAP, or I'll kick your ass as hard as we did in football this year."

Hanging up, he felt his gut twist again. It wasn't Gibbs' gut, but after almost a decade of working with the man, it was almost as reliable. He looked over at the corpsman. "Can I use your phone again? Just for an on-base call."

The kid nodded.

Tony dialed the number for base security. As he'd thought, they hadn't checked Brad through the gates that morning. Frowning, he thought about his next step. He didn't want to worry Tim if this was going to turn out to be nothing. He had enough on his mind between Balboa and his dad. Instead, he dialed Abby's lab and asked her to trace Brad's cell phones.

"Don't tell anybody, Abbs. If I'm making something out of nothing, I don't want to get everybody bent out of shape for no reason," he said.

He could hear her music blaring in the background while he waited. When she finally told him what she'd found, he thanked her, hung up, then called Gibbs.

_"Yeah, Gibbs."_

"Boss, we've got a problem. Brad's missing."

_"What do you mean, he's missing? Like kidnapped missing? From Bethesda?"_

"He never made it here this morning. I can't reach him on either cell, and I had Abby run a trace. His work cell went in the opposite direction of the hospital early this morning. After about 15 minutes, he dialed my desk phone, but the phone shut off before it went to voice mail. His personal cell hasn't left his house."

_"We'll be right there, DiNozzo."_

Tony would have thanked the team leader, but he had hung up too quickly. Instead, he turned back to the corpsman. "Who's the CO for this unit?"

"That would be Rear Admiral Collins."

"Is he in? I need to speak with him. Official NCIS business."

The seaman nodded and dialed a number. After a brief explanation and a few "yes, sir" replies, he hung up.

"The admiral can see you. His office is down that way." Tony made a mental note as the corpsman explained how to navigate the hallways, then he took off. Within minutes, another seaman was showing him into the rear admiral's office.

"How can I help you, Special Agent DiNozzo. I wasn't aware of an NCIS case that involved this unit." The career officer was a tall, thin man, but instead of the lanky impression both McGees gave off, he was more wiry, a coiled spring of energy.

"We're just starting our investigation, sir," Tony said. "Dr. Brad Pitt."

"One of my finest doctors," he said. "He's considered one of the finest in his field in the country, and not just among military personnel. I can't imagine he's done anything wrong."

"We're not investigating him," Tony said. "And I'm well aware of his skills. He's been my doctor since he saved me from the plague five years ago."

The rear admiral raised an eyebrow. "You're _that_ agent?" he said. "You realize that was the case that made Dr. Pitt famous?"

Tony nodded. "We've become friends over the years," he said. "That's why when Brad wasn't here for our appointment this morning, I got worried. He doesn't miss appointments, and since my father-in-law, an Academy professor, is here with pneumonia under his care, I figured he'd be here well before I arrived. When we stopped by to visit Sean last night, he mentioned Brad was planning on coming in early to work on a report before my appointment today."

"Yes, he has one due to NIH tomorrow," Collins said. "Do you suspect foul play?"

Tony nodded. "The rest of my team is on the way now."

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

"My dad?" McGee said, turning to Gibbs.

Gibbs shook his head. "Brad." He was relieved to see the tension ease out of his young agent's shoulders for just a moment.

"Who would kidnap Brad?" he asked, tensing up again.

"DiNozzo is sure Pitt's been kidnapped?" Vance said.

"Looks like," Gibbs said. "He's UA, and there's suspicious cell phone movement. DiNozzo had Abby run a trace before calling us." He started to leave, but a word from Vance stopped him.

"Gibbs, I know Pitt's as close to your team as Fornell, but unless we have proof he's been abducted, you know we don't have jurisdiction for 48 hours."

Gibbs glared at the director, who met his gaze evenly.

"Leon, you know as well as I do that the first 24 hours are critical in a missing persons case. DiNozzo knows Brad pretty well — if he says something's wrong, it is." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw McGee nod.

"Beyond being his doctor, Brad's a friend. If a family emergency or something had come up, he would have called Tony to tell him. And it would have to be something major, because Brad's on a deadline this week to finish a report for the NIH study my dad's in. We've seen him at the hospital every night this week when we've stopped by after work to visit my dad."

Vance just looked at the two men. "You've got four hours. If you don't have more evidence of an abduction by then, we need to wait."

Gibbs didn't even nod, just left the room, McGee right behind him.

"Boss, if we've only got four hours, maybe Ziva should drive the truck to Bethesda."

Gibbs frowned. McGee's suggestion made sense, but given the young agent's motion sickness, he always fought against Ziva driving. Somehow this worried him even more than Tony's call. "Grab your gear."

"On it, Boss."

At the bottom of the stairs, they split up. Gibbs went down the back way so he could call Abby without McGee overhearing.

"Abbs, tell me about the phone traces you ran on Brad for DiNozzo."

As he listened, his gut started churning, especially when Abby reported that before being turned off, Brad's cell phone had been moving slowly for several minutes, more like a pedestrian than a driver, before staying stationary for about 10 minutes. It had just started to move again when he dialed Tony's number and the phone was turned off.

"Abbs, call Metro and the area hospitals, make sure he didn't get brought in because of an accident." He got Brad's home address, explained the time limit Vance had given to them, then hung up. He didn't need to wait for her to agree; he knew she was working as quickly as she could to get answers.

He met McGee and Ziva in the parking lot and handed the sedan keys to Ziva. Her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything.

Once in the car, Gibbs dialed Tony and put him on speakerphone. "DiNozzo. Vance pointed out that until we have evidence of an abduction, we don't have jurisdiction until we hit 48 hours. He's given us until 1145 to find evidence or he's got to pull us. We're on our way to Brad's. Meet us there. Ziva's driving, so we'll probably beat you."

_"On it, Boss."_

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

When Dr. Brad Pitt regained consciousness, he found himself staring up from the carpeted floor at a counter that ran the length of an otherwise empty room. Sun streamed in the tinted window glass. His hands were bound in front of him with twine, and his ankles were duct-taped together. He could feel the stiffness in his muscles from not having stretched after his run, and the dried sweat on his skin made him itchy. His head ached, and as he rolled to one side, he felt a sudden pain above his left ear. Lifting his arms, he reached back and felt a tender swelling on his head. He tried to sit up, but the movement made him dizzy. He remembered the feeling from his football days and knew he had a concussion. Not a major one, but enough that he needed to stay awake and not give in to the urge to fall back to sleep.

Brad tried to remember what had happened. It had still been dark when he left his house to run, dressed for the winter chill and wearing reflective gear to lessen the chances he would get hit by some inattentive driver. He normally ran after work, but the weather reports indicated the big storm coming through the area might start as early as that afternoon, and he didn't want to chance it. He'd already missed two runs this week trying to get all his paperwork done, and he didn't want to miss another, especially if he was going to be snowbound for a few days. But all he could remember was running down his street. He knew it was traumatic amnesia, fairly common in head injuries, but that didn't help him figure out what was going on.

He looked around to see if there was anything that would tell him why he was here or why somebody would bother kidnapping him. There were discolored rectangles on the walls, as if pictures had hung there at some point. He tried to wiggle further upright, pressing his bound hands into the industrial-grade carpet. Once up, he lifted his hands and tried to pull them apart. He felt a little give and forced again. He didn't have the muscles he'd had during his football days, but the Navy fitness tests and his own desire to stay in shape meant he wasn't weak by any standard. The bonds loosened a bit more, but still held, and the waves of dizziness washing over him tugged him back toward unconsciousness. He tried to stay alert, but the achingly bright sunlight and throbbing where he had been hit sent pain throughout his head as his stomach churned violently. Brad closed his eyes, promising himself it was just for a minute, but soon everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those not in the DC area, the storm rolling in is a real storm. It dumped between 28 and 39 inches on the metro area starting the afternoon of Friday, Feb. 5, 2010, and shut lots of things down. Another storm on Wednesday, Feb. 10, exacerbated the situation. So while yes, this storm they're talking about does seem unrealistic for DC, it actually happened. The federal government shut down that day and many schools didn't even open. The only liberty I took was to move the time of the storm up by 12 hours to early Friday morning because Tony wouldn't have a Thursday afternoon appointment with Brad. Since the MCRT does have weekend duty in this story because they had two weeks on cold cases while the guys were gone, I decided that fell into the essential personnel category, as law enforcement, military and emergency services typically are in emergency situations.

When Tony pulled up outside Brad's house, the rest of the team was already there. He met them at the back of the truck.

"McGee, you and David track Brad's route until his cell phone went dead," Gibbs said.

"Abby sent the path to my phone," Tim said, holding it up. "We'll find what we can." He slung the camera around his neck, and Ziva stuffed evidence bags in her pack as they set off down the narrow sidewalk lined by snow.

"We're checking out the house, Boss?" Tony said.

"You're the most likely to notice if anything's missing," Gibbs said. "We need to do this quick, but right." He looked at his watch. "Less than three hours left to find evidence of foul play, or Vance is going to pull us."

Tony nodded and headed up the walk, pulling on latex gloves as he went. Once inside the door, he pulled the camera from his bag and started shooting. As he moved through the small house, he observed out loud.

"Looks pretty normal. Brad's generally neat, said it was all those years in barracks. He apologized last time I was over for the mess, but it wasn't any worse than this. Just a little cluttered." He crouched down to zoom in on the table inside the door, documenting what he saw before touching any of it. "Now this is what I'd expect. Personal cell is on the table with most of his keys. House key's missing, but he had that on a separate ring that he could clip to his running gear. Wallet's right here, but I'll bet his ID is missing." He used one hand to hold the camera and the other to flip open the wallet. "See, driver's license is here, but military ID isn't. He probably took it running in case something happened to him so EMTs would know to take him to Bethesda."

"Good work, DiNozzo." Gibbs flipped open his cell, and Tony could hear him calling Bethesda to see if DC paramedics had brought Brad in that morning. Tony blocked out the conversation and focused on what he could find.

In the kitchen, a bowl, knife, and spoon lay in the sink, rinsed but not washed. Tony flipped up the garbage can lid to find a banana peel on top. "No secret what he had for breakfast," he muttered as he documented everything. "Cereal with banana also says run." He worked his way around the room, not seeing anything out of place. It was the same upstairs, everything in the two small rooms where it should be. Brad's running sneakers were missing from the lineup near the closet, and Tony didn't see the paint-stained Michigan sweatshirt, reflective vest, or Navy watch cap anywhere.

"Anything, DiNozzo?" Gibbs stood in the doorway, sketch pad in hand.

"I can add a description of what he was wearing to the BOLO," Tony replied, pointing out the missing items. "Vest would have made him pretty visible to drivers."

Gibbs nodded. "Between that and the snow piled between the sidewalk and street, not likely there was an accident, especially since Bethesda hasn't gotten any calls from other hospitals about a Navy victim coming in on an ambulance."

Tony checked his watch. It had taken almost an hour to go through the house, small as it was. "Tim and Ziva better have something," he said. "I'm not seeing anything here that says foul play."

Gibbs nodded. "Makes sense. He wasn't snatched from here." Gibbs called Ziva, but all Tony could pick up from his end of the conversation was a couple of grunts.

"They find anything?" Tony asked after Gibbs hung up.

"Footprints in the snow, enough to show a scuffle," Gibbs said. "McGee poked around in the drift and found a house key on a chain with a clip with a giant M on it, said it looked like Brad's."

Tony nodded. "The Michigan logo," he said. "I've got an OSU one like it for our house key when one of us goes running. We just keep it by the door so we both can use it. Big Ten had them made up for the big game the year after I got the plague. Team that sold the most got the title of most enthusiastic fans. I hate when they do stuff like that just to make a buck, but Brad and I got them to rag on each other." He stopped at the head slap.

"So you're telling me we have signs of a scuffle and evidence that Brad was one party to it?" Gibbs said, forcing Tony to focus on the here and now.

Tony nodded, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, Boss. They need help?"

Gibbs shook his head. "On their way back now," he said. "Go help them load gear into the truck while I call Vance."

Tony nodded and walked away, hoping they could find answers quickly enough. Every hour that ticked by, the likelihood that they would find Brad alive and unharmed became less and less. After all the times during his bout with the plague that Brad had repeated he would beat the odds, Tony could only hope Brad was as determined about keeping himself alive.

They had just about gotten everything loaded when Gibbs walked up.

"Vance gave us jurisdiction," he said. "Still need to work fast — with the storm rolling in tonight, we don't have much time. And since we don't know where Brad's being held, we can't assume he's protected from the elements."

Tim pulled up the weather report on his phone. "Boss, they're saying three to four feet of snow, starting late tonight or early tomorrow morning."

"Better split up," Gibbs replied. "DiNozzo, you know Brad best. Any ideas?"

Tony thought for a minute. "He mentioned some doctors at the hospital he had dated before weren't big fans of his, but I don't know how serious it was. We were just joking around at the time."

Gibbs raised one eyebrow, so Tony thought back. "He didn't mention any names. It was a while back, and I had mentioned something about how Tim and Abby used to date. He made some comment about needing to take lessons from Tim about working well with exes. I don't know if anybody at Bethesda would know who they were or not; I don't know how much Brad kept work and play separated." Tony frowned. "I wish I knew more, but Brad didn't mention anything when we saw him Saturday, and I haven't really said more than hello to him since then because he's been buried in paperwork for that report. Sean's seen him a lot more than I have."

"Dad might know," Tim said. "What about some of the other sailors Brad's been treating? Dad was saying yesterday that being part of this study is almost like being in a club. They might know if anything was hinky with him."

"It might not be something personal," Ziva chimed in. "He was out running early, yes? Perhaps he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was taken because he saw something that somebody did not wish anyone to see."

Gibbs nodded. "Good leads to follow. DiNozzo, head to Bethesda to do interviews. David, check with local LEOs for any reports of break-ins or other incidents in the area along Brad's running route. McGee, start tracing his electronic trail: e-mail, cell, anything you can find." He checked his watch. "It's 1100 already. Get moving. DiNozzo, feed any names you get to McGee. David, when you're done running down your leads, help McGee."

Tony nodded and headed for his car, pushing his worries for Brad aside. Those wouldn't help him find his friend, and that had to be his priority. He looked up to see heavy clouds starting to roll across the sky.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Ziva raised one eyebrow when Tim handed her the keys for the second time.

"You are really worried, McGee," she said as she pulled out into traffic.

"Three feet of snow in an area that can't handle three inches?" McGee replied. "If we don't find Brad today, it's not going to be good."

"We. Will. Find. Him." Gibbs bit off the words, and Tim quickly said, "Yes, Boss."

Ziva just nodded and focused on driving back to the Navy Yard as quickly as possible. Once back there, Gibbs sent her and McGee upstairs to the bullpen while he carried the evidence to Abby's lab. Ziva filed that away as further proof that Gibbs was more worried than he let on. Normally, it would be her job to bring the evidence to Abby, since she was the team's probie.

McGee was silent in the elevator, yet so tense she could almost feel him vibrating. She opened her mouth, but closed it again because she did not know what to say. She knew McGee and Tony were close to Brad, Tony especially, and the doctor had been treating McGee's father as well. She could not imagine what it would be like to have somebody that important missing for no apparent reason. In Mossad, colleagues often disappeared, but they were soldiers in a war where casualties were inevitable. Brad was just a doctor, one who helped men and women who were made ill by their service to their country, soon to be her country as well. It did not make sense.

A dozen phone calls later, she repeated that sentiment out loud to McGee.

"What doesn't make sense?" McGee replied, focused on his computer.

"This," she said. "The local LEOs have no reports of any incidents along the running route. Local hospitals have no reports of anybody matching Brad's description being brought in. He does not have access to classified information, nor is he working in a field that involves bioweapons. I do not understand why somebody would abduct him." She stood in front of the plasma looking at the few pieces of information McGee had displayed there.

The agent looked up. "I'm not finding anything in his records," he said, motioning toward the plasma. "The only unusual thing is that he hasn't been hitting some of his usual haunts this week, but that makes sense with that report due tomorrow. He's been putting in long hours at Bethesda trying to finish it."

"What report is this?" Ziva asked. "You and Tony and Gibbs all seem to know about it, but I do not."

McGee shook his head. "It's for the NIH study he's been doing on his alternative treatment for the asbestos-related lung problems older sailors are prone to. My dad's part of the study group. He has to file a preliminary report tomorrow that will decide if it gets funded for another year."

"Could that be a motive?" Ziva asked. "I do not know much about medicine or about what he does that keeps Tony and your father healthy, but if it is that important, perhaps it is a motive."

Before McGee could answer, his phone rang.

"What have you got, Tony?" he said as he answered.


	10. Chapter 10

Tony pulled up outside Bethesda and hurried inside. He headed upstairs to Sean's room and was glad to find his father-in-law inside when he stuck his head in.

"Tony?"

"Hey, Dad," he said, walking over to hug the older man.

"What's going on? Have you found Brad?" Sean put aside the magazine he'd been reading.

Tony shook his head. "No, we're investigating it as a kidnapping. The others are back at the Yard tracking down leads; Gibbs sent me over here. I have to talk to Brad's CO and some other folks, but I was wondering if you could think back, make a list of anybody you heard Brad mention, anything that might help. Patients, doctors, anybody." He paced in the small room.

"Of course," Sean said. "You don't have any idea why somebody would kidnap Brad?"

Tony shook his head again. "No idea. And we need to figure this out quickly, before the storm rolls in."

Sean nodded. "Brad said yesterday he'd probably be ready to let me go tomorrow, but with the storm, I'd probably be stuck until Monday. He didn't want to let me leave early though, not after the way I wound up here."

"Tim mentioned that. He obviously didn't get his McWorry genes from Mom, or she would have had you in here as soon as you started feeling off." Despite the tension of the day, the idea made him smile. "I've got to go investigate. I'll be back in a while to talk to you and any of Brad's other regular patients who are here."

"We usually meet about 1300 in the sun room on this floor," Sean said. "There are three or four of us in here now, but some of the others come by to spend time with us. I wish Eileen and I lived closer. I'd like to continue visiting with them regularly, especially since I don't think Brad's going to let me go back to teaching after this." He just shrugged when Tony looked at him. "Too many germs, and that's assuming I can pass a fitness eval after this. Might be time for me to finally retire."

Tony didn't want to let what Sean said go unnoticed, but he was painfully aware of the clock ticking. "Dad, don't make any hasty decisions," he said. "Look, I've got to go, but we'll talk later. I'll come by the sun room to meet you guys, but to do that, I have to get through everybody else and find some names for Tim to investigate further." He reached down and hugged Sean, wishing he had more time to talk to him.

After leaving Sean's hospital room, Tony shook his head to get it back in investigative mode, then headed for the administrative wing. Within a few minutes, he was back talking to Rear Admiral Collins.

"Agent DiNozzo," Collins said. "Any luck locating Dr. Pitt?"

Tony shook his head. "Not yet. We've found where he was abducted, and the rest of my team is running down leads. I'm hoping you can help me with some names."

"Anything I can do to help," Collins replied. "What kind of names?"

"Do you know anybody – doctors, nurses, orderlies, anybody who might have a grudge against Brad?" he said.

Collins thought for a minute, then shook his head slowly. "I wish I could say I did," he said. "Not because I wish anybody ill, but because I want to help you find Dr. Pitt. But nobody comes to mind. He was pretty well liked."

"Anybody he was particular friends with?" Tony asked. "He mentioned to me once that he'd dated a couple of other doctors here, but he didn't mention names."

Collins shook his head again. "I wouldn't know who he dated, but it would almost have to be doctors or some of the nurses. He couldn't date enlisted personnel." He thought for a second. "He was on good terms with most people, but I don't know that I could say who he was particular friends with."

Tony thought for a second. "Any other Michigan alumni on staff here?"

Collins frowned. "Maybe. None of the doctors on this ward are, but I couldn't speak to the rest of the staff. There's probably a way to search for that in the computer, since it would be part of their SRBs, but I'm not that computer-savvy."

Tony smiled. "We've got that covered. Excuse me just one second." He hit Tim's cell in his speed dial. "Hey, McGenius. Find any Bethesda personnel that graduated from Michigan." He listened for a second. "No, I'm not going to taunt them about this year's game. Just send the information to my phone."

Collins looked puzzled. "You didn't even explain what you were calling about."

Tony laughed. "No need," he said. "Tim knows exactly why I was asking."

"You graduated from Michigan?"

"Bite your tongue," Tony said. "I'm a Buckeye. Brad and I both played football. He broke my leg in the big game senior year, ended my chances for a pro career. When we realized that while he was treating me for plague, we decided him saving my life made up for that. We've been friends ever since."

Collins nodded. "I see... I think."

Tony thought about explaining Tim, but decided he didn't want to go there without having any idea of how Collins would react. Instead he rose to leave, just as his phone beeped. He looked to see Tim had sent a list of four people.

"Where can I find these people?" he asked, showing Collins the list.

The admiral scanned the names. "Lt. Halterman came on duty at 0600. She's part of our unit and would know most people Pitt deals with on a daily basis."

Tony nodded, recognizing the name. "I met her Saturday when we came by to visit my father-in-law," he said. "She was the floor nurse on duty."

Collins just nodded. "Dr. Morelli is off duty this morning, won't be in until 1500." He checked his watch. "He's an oncologist who works occasionally with Pitt on lung cancer cases, mostly when one of Pitt's patients develops mesothelioma. Lt. O'Brien came on at 0600, so you should find him on duty in the supply office, up on the fifth floor. I don't know how much contact he and Brad would have had."

"And Dr. Rachel Weinstein?"

Collins tapped a few keys on his computer. "Looks like she's on duty in the cardiology unit until 1500," he said. "I'm afraid I don't know her, so I can't tell you anything about her."

"Thanks, Admiral," Tony said, filing the man's comments away. He handed him a card. "We're trying to find Brad before the storm rolls in, so if you think of anything that might be helpful, please let me know."

"I will, Agent DiNozzo. Good luck getting Dr. Pitt back safely. He's an integral part of the team here."

Tony checked his watch as he left the admiral's office. He had 90 minutes until the sailors were scheduled to meet in the sun room. Haltermann and O'Brien would be off duty by the time he finished there, so he needed to start with them. Weinstein didn't get off duty until later, so she could wait. By the time he'd finished with everybody else, Morelli should be on duty. Since Haltermann worked with Brad, he decided to start with her.

"Lt. Haltermann?" he asked.

"Yes, sir?" She frowned. "I've met you before, haven't I?"

Tony nodded. "My father-in-law's been on the ward here all week. You were on duty when we came in this weekend after getting back from a trip outside the country." He pulled out his badge and introduced himself. "I need to talk to you for an investigation."

"About what?" she asked.

"Dr. Pitt has been kidnapped," he said. "NCIS is investigating."

"And you think I had something to do with it?" Her voice was filled with suspicion. "I liked Brad. Everybody did. Not to mention I've been on duty all morning."

Tony raised one eyebrow. "Is there a break room or someplace where we can talk?" he asked. "Rear Admiral Collins knows I was coming to talk to you, so if there's an issue with your supervisor, he or she can speak to him."

"She," Haltermann said. "Capt. Walker-Jones. Let me go clear it with her."

Tony trailed along behind in case the captain tried to give Haltermann a hard time or Haltermann tried to skate out of this, but neither happened. Within a few minutes, they were in the break room. She sank into the chair with a sigh and started to put her feet up, then stopped.

"No, go on," Tony said. "My last girlfriend was a doctor. Put your feet up while you have the chance."

She raised one eyebrow. "Really? I got the impression you and Commander McGee's son..."

Tony forced himself not to snark at her. "We are," he said, his tone even. "This was a few years ago. Now, I just have a few questions for you."

"Why me?" she asked. "Do you think I had something to do with it?"

"Did you?" Tony asked.

"No," she said. "Sure, I was mad at Brad for getting me in trouble for not letting you see Commander McGee, but I wouldn't have kidnapped him."

Tony kept his expression neutral. "Brad? You were calling him Dr. Pitt on Saturday."

"We went to the same school," she said. "We don't have a lot in common, but I was in the marching band when I was there, so I go to all of the alumni parties during football season unless I'm on duty. We usually bring our instruments and perform the fight songs. There are about two dozen of us. We're pretty noticeable, and Brad recognized me at one of them, and we got to talking. He doesn't live that far from me, so I've been over a few times when he's invited a group to watch the game." She paused. "It's a school spirit thing. I'm not sure I could explain it so you could understand."

Tony laughed. "Oh, I understand. When I first met Brad, he mentioned he was a Michigan grad. After I gave him grief for breaking my leg in the big game senior year, we had a good time giving each other a hard time. We get together on football Saturdays to watch sometimes if both teams aren't on at the same time. Tim's not that into football, so it's nice to watch with somebody who gets it."

"You're a Buckeye?" she said.

"Red and gray to the bone," he said. "So tell me about the trouble he got you in Saturday."

"You were there," she said. "Brad was trying to get me to bend the rules, and I wouldn't. To be compassionate, we usually look the other way on partners of patients' families since they're not military, but the head nurse who was on duty that day is a stickler, and I didn't want to get in trouble. Brad talked to Capt. Walker-Jones on Monday, and she sat me down. I didn't get a formal reprimand in my file because I was following the official DOD ruling. But since we don't usually enforce it, she said I should have let you in and let her and Brad deal with the fallout if the head nurse found out. Her lecture was almost worse than a reprimand would have been."

Tony nodded. "I know that feeling. You haven't been reamed out until you've met my boss. Former Gunny." He tried to redirect the conversation. "Do you know anybody who has a problem with or maybe a grudge against Brad?"

She shook her head. "He's pretty well-liked around here. He was dating a doctor earlier this year and it didn't end well, but she got reassigned to the USS Enterprise last month."

"I remember him mentioning the breakup," he replied. "He said he's dated a couple of the doctors where things didn't end well. You don't know who the others might be, do you?"

She thought for a second. "There's another UM grad in cardiology that I think he dated for a while. They don't get along, but it seems like he didn't want to be around her, not vice versa."

Tony asked a few more questions, but Haltermann didn't have anything else to add. He excused himself and called Tim to pass along the information.

_"I'll background both of them and see what I can find."_

"Thanks, McSearchEngine," Tony said. "Any progress on your end?"

_"Abby got some brainstorm a few minutes ago and went back to her lab to investigate, but she hasn't called, so either it didn't pan out or she's still searching."_

"I'll keep you posted. If you get anything, call me."

Tony spent a useless 20 minutes interviewing O'Brien, then headed to Sean's room. He was there, dressed in a Naval Academy sweatshirt and sweatpants, wearing the slippers Sarah had given him for Christmas.

"Good timing, Tony," he said. "I was just about to head to the sun room. Any leads?"

"A couple," he replied. "Tim's running them down."

"I've racked my brain, and I'm not sure I have anything. There are a couple of sailors who don't think his treatment is working as well as they would like, but they wouldn't be any better off without this from everything I've heard." Sean shrugged. "Is that a motive to kidnap your doctor?"

"I wouldn't think so," Tony said. "But let's go find out."

Tony was glad he had so much undercover experience when they entered the sun room to find Steve there. He wondered if the petty officer had said anything to Sean about their conversation Saturday night, but when Steve greeted him, he thought not.

"You joining us today, Tony?" Steve said. "Guys, this is Tony, the NCIS agent Brad's treating."

"I'd like to, Steve," he said. "I'm afraid this is business, though. Brad was kidnapped this morning, and we're investigating."

"Dr. Pitt? Kidnapped?"

Tony turned to the sailor sitting by the window. Tattoos ran up and down both arms, but his arms had lost a lot of bulk since the ink had been applied decades earlier. He still had a full head of hair, but his cheeks were sunken and a nasal cannula ran to a portable oxygen tank. "We believe so," he replied. "You are?"

"Chief Petty Officer Evan Wilhelm," he said, pausing to cough. "Been seeing Pitt for years now, though it hasn't done me much good. Still tied to this stupid can." He tugged on the clear tubing that led to the tank. "Told me last week I might not go home this time, might have to find a nursing home or something."

Tony starred Wilhelm's name in his notebook as he continued to interview the men.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Tim got off the phone with Tony and started backgrounding the two women.

"What can I do to help, McGee?" Ziva asked.

He gave her the names Tony had passed along. "I'm running their cell and other electronic records to see if I can place either one at the scene. Can you find out everything about them?"

She nodded. "We will find him. Gibbs said so."

Tim nodded, but didn't say anything. Turning back to his computer, he continued tracking the names Tony had provided. When his partner sent over Wilhelm's name, he added that to the list and passed the name to Ziva.

"What ya got, McGee?" Gibbs said, walking in with coffee for all three of them.

"Nothing, Boss." Tim shoved his keyboard away. "Tony found three names that looked promising, but I can't find any evidence that they were anywhere near the spot Brad was grabbed."

"Could they have hired somebody?"

Tim shook his head. "No evidence of it in their financial records. I can't find anything to indicate they paid somebody, and Haltermann and Weinstein don't seem to have a grudge serious enough for a family member or friend to go after Brad on their behalf. Wilhelm is a different story. He blames Brad for his health, thinks Brad hasn't helped him as much as some of the other sailors in the study."

"So maybe he has family who believe him." Gibbs nodded. "Keep digging, McGee."

Tim nodded and started tracking Wilhelm's family to see if he could find a connection. He hadn't gotten very far when Gibbs called him.

"Abby's got something," he said. "David, McGee, with me."

They walked into the lab to find Abby sitting in front of her computer, arms wrapped around her.

"Abby, what ya got?"

"Gibbs, this is not good. Not good." She turned, and Tim could see tears welling up in her eyes.

"Abs?" he said.

Abby pointed to the plasma, and Tim followed Gibbs and Ziva over.

"I know Brad's NIH study has been getting a lot of discussion in alternative medicine circles, because it incorporates traditional medical approaches and the more holistic breath therapy," she said. "So I started wondering if the kidnapping could be related. I've been searching FDA and other records to see who might benefit from a delay in Brad's report or from the study getting canceled."

"Bottom line, Abs," Gibbs said.

She pulled up a form on the screen. "The FDA is set to decide whether or not to approve a new COPD treatment. The hearing starts Monday. NIH has entered the preliminary paperwork from Brad's study to argue that there are other treatments that would accomplish the same ends with lower risks to patients." She sniffled, and Tim turned to look at her. "Abby?"

"The drug is produced by Lowell Pharmaceuticals." She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Dammit!" Gibbs slammed his hand down on the tabletop. "That bitch is dead. How can she still be wreaking havoc?"

"Wait," Ziva said. "I do not understand."

"The CEO of Lowell Pharmaceuticals is the one who sent Tony the plague," Tim said. "But she's dead, Boss."

"This can't be a coincidence, Bossman," Abby said.

"But if Tony was the target last time, why kidnap Brad?" Ziva asked. "It does not make sense."

"Tony wasn't the target," Tim said. "She was after NCIS. If Tony hadn't grabbed the letter from my hand, I would have opened it."

"But you said she is dead, McGee," Ziva replied.

"Well somebody snatched Brad, and none of the other leads have panned out," Gibbs said. "McGee, you and Abby see what you can dig up — however you have to dig — to figure out who at Lowell is working on this project and why they might be after Brad. David, with me. Let's go talk to Lowell's successor."

"Boss, what about Tony?" Tim said.

"Get him back here as soon as he's done interviewing the last person on his list. He can help you two run down leads." Gibbs started to walk out, then turned back. "Brad may be running out of time, McGee. I doubt this dirtbag put him up at a nice hotel with food, water, and heat. You call the minute you find anything."

"On it, Boss," he said.


	11. Chapter 11

As Gibbs and Ziva left to talk to the new CEO of Lowell Pharmaceuticals, Tim's mind continued to turn over these latest revelations. "Abs, if this is related to the FDA hearing, someone took a huge risk in kidnapping a naval doctor. Check with your sources and learn everything you can about this new treatment. See if anything pops out at you. Meanwhile, I'll hack into Lowell's servers and see what I can find out from that end."

"Agent Sciuto reporting for duty, sir." She saluted him, then grabbed Tim in a hug. "Don't worry, Timmy, we'll find him. But you'd better let Tony know what's going on. If this ties back to the plague — he's out there without anyone on his six." She let him go.

"Calling him on my way to the bullpen," he said, as she went to her desk to start checking in with her sources. "Come up if you find anything."

Tim headed upstairs, pressing Tony's speed dial number.

_"DiNozzo."_

"Abby found something. Lowell Pharmaceuticals has a motive to stop the report Brad's been working on. Gibbs and Ziva are headed there now."

_"Lowell? Didn't she do enough harm?"_

"Hannah Lowell isn't responsible this time. She's been dead for five years," Tim said. "Died the day you left Bethesda."

_"So they have another nut case over there?"_

"Tony, just get your interviews done, watch your six, and make it back here in one piece. If this goes all the way back to the plague, you could be a target."

 _"Well, that's a cheerful thought."_ Tony sighed. _"I should be back within the hour. Call me if anything else hinky happens, McDowner."_

Tony hung up before Tim could reply, leaving Tim to mutter about annoying senior field agents as he sat down at his desk and started hacking into Lowell. He knew Tony used the smart-ass comments as a shield when things hit too close to home, but that didn't make them any easier to take.

By the time Tim had made it through Lowell's security, Abby had migrated to Gibbs' desk to make her phone calls, even though she hadn't found anything useful to the investigation yet. Tim smiled, knowing she was just worried and trying to stay close. Before he could say anything about it, Tony returned.

"Sitrep, Tim," the senior agent said.

"I'm into Lowell's servers but still sifting through all their databases to find out anything," Tim replied. "Each project has a codename, and without knowing that, I have to check each one."

"Codename?"

Tim looked up to see Vance standing next to Tony in front of his desk. "Director?"

"Somebody want to fill me in, Agent McGee?"

Before he could reply, Abby hung up the phone and jumped up to join the others. "I found a connection!"

"What ya got, Abs?" Tony asked.

Abby slugged him in the arm. "Tony, you're not Gibbs. Timmy, give me the remote."

Tim handed her the plasma controller and moved around his desk to sit on the edge facing the big screen.

"Lowell started working on this drug as an offshoot of their bioweapons vaccine program," she said. "That's the same program Hannah Lowell got the plague from."

"Yeah, we know this, Abby," Tony said. "We were there."

"I wasn't," Vance said. "Continue, Miss Sciuto."

"The bitch stole the bug from her researchers. They had it because they were working on a vaccine to the plague in case it was ever used as a bioweapon, but a Navy-funded R&D outfit beat them to it and got the military contract. So the Lowell started looking into other ways they could use the research to recoup their costs and discovered some promising treatments for lung infections and respiratory ailments." She pulled up the same report she'd shown Tim, Gibbs, and Ziva earlier when they were down in her lab. "They marketed a couple of asthma drugs, but nothing that's any better than others already on the market, and definitely none good enough to bring in the big-time bucks Lowell needs to recoup its costs. But the one they have up before the FDA next week could be. It's designed to treat chronic bronchitis and COPD, and their trials show it's much more effective than current drug therapy."

"Current drug therapy isn't very good," Tony said, pausing as his mind worked through the information Abby had given them. "It has a lot of side effects, especially long-term, because it's basically steroids boosting lung function."

"Exactly," Abby said. "That's why Brad's project is so important to NIH. It's a lot more effective and, because the steroid doses are lower and done in cycles, they don't wreck as much havoc on the rest of the body."

"The side effects are definitely killer," Tim replied. "Tony was worse than a decaffeinated Gibbs when Brad put him on the steroids, and that was his lower-dose treatment." He ignored Tony's wordless cry of objection. "Abs, what are the side effects from the Lowell drug?"

"Not good," Abby said. "They're different ones from the steroid approach, but they're still going to rip up your body."

"So what's the connection, Miss Sciuto?" Vance crossed his arms and worked his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.

"If the drug comes out of the bioweapons research, the same researcher who created the plague bug Hannah Lowell used to infect Tony is probably on this project, too," Abby said.

"Dr. Ridesh Pandi," Vance said.

Tim jerked his head in surprise at the director and saw Abby and Tony do the same. "Director?"

"Pandi sued NCIS, arguing he sustained post-traumatic stress disorder from Gibbs' behavior during the investigation into Hannah Lowell," Vance said. "A federal magistrate just ruled on the case before the holidays, and she determined that given the circumstances of the case, neither NCIS nor Agent Gibbs was responsible."

"Wait, what do you mean 'just ruled'?" Tony asked. "That was almost five years ago."

"Civil cases take a long time to resolve, Agent DiNozzo," Vance said. "Agent Lee had done a lot of the legwork on the case, and after her death, we successfully petitioned for additional time to check her work and make sure it hadn't been compromised. The magistrate was very accommodating. Since Pandi was still able to work in his chosen field and at the workplace where the trauma occurred, it cast a rather large shadow over his claim of PTSD."

"So Pandi has a grudge against NCIS and a reason to stop Brad's report," Tim said as he returned to his seat and focused once more on his computer.

"Not just NCIS," Abby said. "He's got a grudge against Gibbs."

Vance turned to Tim. "McGee, what do you have?"

"I'm just checking all the projects Pandi is working on," he said, fingers tapping. "There are only two." A few more clicks, and Tim sent a screenshot to the plasma. "Here are the names of everybody involved in those projects."

"McGee, track them down," Vance said.

"Yes, sir. Abby, I'm going to send phone numbers and car VIN numbers to you as I get them."

"I'll run them to see if anybody was in the vicinity of Brad's house this morning," she said, taking a seat at Gibbs' desk again. "It could be Pandi, but he could just be a smokescreen."

"Probably is," Tony said. "He's more likely to go after Gibbs than after Brad. Preventing Brad from finishing his report before Lowell's hearing in front of the FDA would be a financial motive. But if Pandi was angry over the PTSD ruling, he'd be after revenge, not cash."

"I'll check financial records on these employees while I'm at it," Tim said. "See who needs the kind of money that FDA approval would provide."

"You do that, and I'll check for SEC filings," Tony said. "Some companies issue stock options as part of compensation. If this drug gets approved, the Lowell's stock price will shoot up, and somebody with options could cash in and make a killing. If anybody's got major financial problems, they might be counting on the success of this drug to bail them out." He headed to his desk.

Vance just looked around. "Good work, people. Keep me in the loop and tell Agent Gibbs I need to see him when he returns. Oh, and I came down to tell you that we have cots set up in the lounge since you'll likely be here for the duration when this storm comes in. No need to sleep on the floor behind your desks for the next few nights."

"Timmy, you and Tony can take my futon down in the lab. I'll take one of the cots. The futon's big enough for two."

Tim raised one eyebrow as Tony snorted.

"You've got cameras set up down there, don't you, Abs?" Tony said.

"Of course she does," Tim replied, biting back a chuckle at the expression on Abby's face.

"I don't think I want to hear any more," Vance said. "Miss Scuito, no using NCIS resources for personal reasons."

"Yes, sir," she said.

Once Vance walked away, she stuck her tongue out at Tim and Tony. "Just for that, you can sleep on separate cots instead of cuddling together on my futon with nobody around." She smirked. "After all, 'no using NCIS resources for personal reasons', like snuggling."

"Abs, if we don't find Brad, we're not going to be sleeping tonight," Tony pointed out.

Just like that, the mood in the room deflated, and the three turned back to their work, anxious to find the clue that would lead them to their friend.

Tony picked up his phone and dialed Gibbs' number.

_"Yeah, Gibbs."_

"Boss, we might have a problem."

_"Well, yeah, DiNozzo, ya think? What now?"_

"Vance said a judge threw out Dr. Pandi's civil suit against NCIS for damages from PTSD just last month." Tony massaged the bridge of his nose.

 _"Last month? They took my deposition on that years ago, back when Jenny was still alive."_ Gibbs growled. _"The case made it to court right after Vance broke up the team. I testified while you were on the Seahawk. Why is this only now coming up?"_

Tony briefly filled him in on what they had learned and Vance's request to see him, ending with, "So it might be Pandi, or he might be a decoy for somebody else. But if it's Pandi, you're his next logical target."

_"Not just me, DiNozzo. The judge was the one who ruled against him."_

"So see if she's gotten any threats or had any unexplained incidents. On it, Boss."

_"Tell Vance we'll be back once we're done at Lowell, and file for a search warrant. We're going to need one to get a look at information on anybody working on that research."_

"I'll get Vance to file it," Tony replied. "I'm Brad's patient, and Tim's dad is in the trial. If they try and argue proprietary data, having either of us on there will just slow things down."

_"Good thinking, DiNozzo."_

"Thanks, Boss. We'll call once we come up with more information. Tim and Abby are tracking everybody on the research team. I'll tell Vance you're not due back for a while."

At the silence on the other end, he knew Gibbs had hung up.

"What am I going to do, Agent DiNozzo?" Vance stood by his desk, face impassive.

"File for a search warrant for Lowell Pharmaceuticals, Director," Tony replied.

Vance nodded. "Good thinking," he said. "Pandi's past involvement in your case plus the upcoming FDA hearing should be enough for probable cause, so we won't need to use anything McGee's obtained under the table. Let me know if you need additional agents for legwork." He checked his watch. "We only have about eight hours before the snow is predicted to start falling."

Tony nodded and reached for his phone to call the office of the magistrate who had ruled on Pandi's PTSD suit, only to find nobody there to answer. "Great."

He started pulling SEC filings to see who at Lowell had stock options and within 20 minutes had a list of employees to compare to Tim's list of project participants.

"How quickly can you cross-reference these, Tim?" he asked as he e-mailed the list to his partner.

"Cross-reference wh-?" Tim paused as his e-mail dinged. "Oh, those. Give me a minute."

By the time Tony walked over and crouched next to Tim to look at his monitor, the computer had spit out five names, in addition to Pandi, that appeared on both lists.

"Margaret Saks, Jenelle McLachlan, Richard Carlisle, David Zorn, and Paige Rose," Tim read off. "Abby, focus your searches on those six."

She nodded without looking up from the monitor in front of her.

"Tim, you research their financials while I run background checks on them," Tony said, returning to his own desk. "I'll call Ziva and give her the names, since Gibbs is probably scaring the hell out of whoever is dumb enough to try and keep him out of the CEO's office. If he scares them into cooperating, they might be able to question them."

That phone call took just a few minutes, and soon he joined Tim and Abby in frantic silence, broken only by rapid typing and Tony's phone calls to potential sources on the six suspects.

They were so engrossed in their work that when Vance said "What do we know?" Tony jerked his head up in surprise, having missed the director's entrance.

He started off. "We know that six of the people working on the COPD project have stock options in Lowell." He went down the list of names as he walked over to stand next to Vance in front of the plasma. "Pandi was already on the suspect list, and so far nothing I've found takes him off of it. He was shattered by Gibbs' interrogation during the plague investigation, and friends and family say he hasn't been the same since."

"It also drained his wallet," Tim said, sending documents to the big screen. "He was making a good living before Hannah Lowell stole the plague bug from him, but his finances took a hit during his pursuit of NCIS in court. He took several weeks off after the case, but Lowell didn't pay him short-term disability. So either he didn't file for medical leave or they refused to grant it. Those documents aren't on the Lowell servers, so I can't tell."

"But if Lowell refused to grant disability, wouldn't he be after them?" Abby asked. "Why go after Brad? If the FDA rejects Lowell's drug in favor of Brad's treatment, it would help him get revenge on Lowell."

"If he's broke, he'd probably rather get the stock options," Tony said. "If he really hated Lowell that much, why not go work for another company? There are lots of biotech and pharmaceutical firms out there."

Tim stood to point to details on the screen. "Pandi's not the only one in a financial hole. Saks, Carlisle, and Zorn all could use the money." He used the remote to send more documents to the plasma. "Their salaries are lower than the industry standard. Lowell lured them onto the project with stock options instead."

Tony frowned. "That's a big gamble. Lots of R&D doesn't go anywhere. They could end up working for years without getting that big payout. That definitely gives them the incentive to do whatever it takes to make sure the drug succeeds." He turned to look at Abby, still working at Gibbs' desk. "Abs, have you found anything on these three?"

She tipped her head from side to side, pigtails bobbing. "Yes and no. Carlisle has the most holes. He's been turning his cell phone off at night for the past few weeks, and it hadn't been turned back on during the time Brad went missing. Nothing to track there. His car has been sitting in the lot at Lowell since last night, but he might have stayed to watch over an experiment run. I do it all the time."

"What about the others?" Tim asked.

"Saks lives about two blocks from where Brad disappeared," Abby said. "Her car didn't move, but she might have been able to move him on foot to her house, then take him out later in her car. She made a couple of stops before going to Lowell this morning, including one at a self-storage place in Bethesda." She twisted one pigtail around her finger. "If she left Brad there, at least he'd be out of the weather."

"And probably snowed in until Tuesday or Wednesday," Tony said. "He can't last that long without water. We've got to figure this out soon."

Tim rubbed his shoulder. "We will. Abs, what about Zorn?"

"Nothing hinky," she said. "He went home last night and stayed there until he left for work this morning based on both his cell and car GPS."

He turned to Vance. "Director, did you get a search warrant?"

Vance nodded, but before he could say anything, Gibbs and Ziva walked out of the elevator.

"Lowell's CEO refused to talk, and security threw us out," Ziva said.

"I couldn't get a search warrant for the company," Vance said, "but the judge agreed we have probable cause to search Pandi's house."

Gibbs nodded. "Tim, you and Ziva go."

Vance frowned. "But isn't McGee more valuable here working the computer trail?"

"I'm doing that," Abby said. "Tim, can I use your desk?" She smiled at Gibbs, who was waiting for her to move from behind his desk.

"Help yourself, Abs," he said. "Just transfer the financial searches to Tony's computer so he can keep investigating those."

She nodded and switched desks. "Tony and I can handle it, Leon," she said. Tim and Ziva took that as their cue and left.

"I'm not letting Tony near that man's house," Gibbs said. "He might be after him."

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said. "Not to mention, if you send me, it contaminates the case. I don't hold a grudge against Pandi — he wasn't the nut who tried to kill me — but a defense attorney would argue that way in court. If he really kidnapped Brad, I don't want him to walk. Save me for interrogation, where everything is recorded to refute any claims of funny business."

"Gibbs, with me." As the team leader followed Vance upstairs, Tony wondered what it was about, but pushed that aside. If it was about Brad, Gibbs would tell them, and if it wasn't, it could wait until they found him. He returned to his desk and started reviewing the search results for the financials Tim had started. These went way beyond the standard background checks he knew how to pull. Sure, he could decipher the information in the documents, but he had no idea how to locate them. Not for the first time, he marveled at Tim's skills at extracting information from computers.

Between the financial records and Abby's searches, they soon eliminated McLachlan and Rose from the suspect list, and Saks was looking unlikely. That left Zorn, Carlisle, and Pandi.

"Should we go question them, Boss?" Tony asked.

Before Gibbs could reply, his cell rang. The team leader listened for a second, then said "Go pick him up. I'll get Legal to meet you there with a warrant."

"Pandi?" Tony said.

"They found a map marked with Brad's running route in the pocket of his overcoat," Gibbs said. "Ziva bagged the map and coat, but I'm going to get Vance to send another team over there to process the house for additional evidence."

Tony nodded and sat back in his chair. He hadn't believed in prayer since his mother died and his father shipped him off to boarding school, but he was beginning to wish he did. With less than seven hours remaining until the snow was supposed to start falling, Brad was running out of time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belated and huge thanks to Kyrie and choosing_sarah for comments, suggestions and general editing. This story would not be nearly as good without their help because I can never plot a case fic without leaving at least three plot holes big enough to drive Gibbs' Challenger through. Four chapters to go with more twists and turns than the whole rest of the story put together, so sit down and hang on!

Gibbs was in Abby's lab pacing when Tony called down to say McGee and Ziva had returned and Pandi was in the interrogation room.

"I get first crack at him, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied. "You three watch from observation."

He didn't wait for a reply, just snapped his phone shut. "Abs, get a close look at that map McGee and Ziva came back with. If he has Brad's running route, he must have followed him. See if you can find cameras along the route and pick up him or his car on any of them."

She nodded. "Take him down, Gibbs. We need to get Brad back. He and Tony and Mr. McGee and the others in the study are depending on us."

Gibbs just nodded and left the lab.

The researcher was sitting in interrogation, his short body hunched over and his hands shaking.

"Dr. Pandi. We meet again." Gibbs dropped the files from the plague case and the one McGee had started for Brad's kidnapping onto the table. "I thought we'd seen enough of each other after your plague bug almost killed my best agent five years ago."

"I did not do that," Pandi said, his musical voice quavering. "I said that then. It was the brain tumor that made Mrs. Lowell do it. I know nothing about this missing navy captain. I told your agents, I will not say anything until I speak to my lawyer."

"He's on his way," Gibbs said. "You don't have to say anything. Just listen. This missing navy captain's name is Dr. Brad Pitt, the doctor who saved my agent from your plague. He's leading an NIH study that will scuttle the chances of your COPD drug at next week's FDA hearing. His report is due tomorrow. In six hours, a massive snowstorm is supposed to start rolling in." He forced himself to keep his tone even. "If we find him before then, the charge is only kidnapping. If he dies before we find him, you're looking at a murder charge."

The researcher's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he started trembling. Gibbs tried to wait him out, but the longer he stared, the more the doctor hunched over, withdrawing. Thinking for a second, he decided to change the plan.

When he moved from Interrogation to Observation, his agents watched Pandi level off. He didn't relax any more, but he stopped trying to shrink into himself.

"DiNozzo. Your turn. When I interrogated him five years ago, he called you 'the specimen.' Let's see if realizing you're a person helps him realize what's at stake."

Tony just nodded and walked out the door. When he entered the interrogation room, Gibbs saw Pandi stiffen, then relax. He nodded, knowing he had made the right decision to send the senior field agent in.

"Dr. Pandi?" Tony's voice was quiet.

"Yes," he said. "I am Dr. Pandi."

"Agent Anthony DiNozzo," Tony replied. "We didn't get a chance to meet the last time you were involved in an NCIS case, unfortunately."

"No," he said. "Special Agent Gibbs is the only one I met."

Tony nodded, sitting down across from the other man. "I understand he came across a bit strong back then. He does that sometimes, when he's particularly invested in a case."

Gibbs could see Pandi's shoulders soften a bit. "Yes. He was very concerned that his agent would die. I did not want to tell him about the survival rates, but he made me. I tried to explain things had changed since the Middle Ages, that people were in better health, but he was still upset."

Tony nodded, and Gibbs wished he could see the face of the man he considered a son. At least when Tony spoke, his voice sounded normal. "Yeah, Marines refuse to believe they can't save everyone. Must be that 'never leave a man behind' mentality. Never once gave me any reason to believe I wasn't going to recover. 'You. Will Not. Die.' That's what he said to me in the isolation ward when I was barely hanging on. And once he said it, I wasn't going to let him down. Not if it meant disobeying a direct order."

"You?" Pandi straightened up. "You are the agent who contracted the plague?"

Tony nodded again. "I have to say, I'm glad you put a suicide gene in there, but some days I really wish you had skipped the whole resistant-to-antibiotics thing. I miss being able to run eight miles when a case gets to me. Four just isn't the same."

"You survived? And you are still healthy?" Pandi started to engage more in the discussion, and Gibbs let a small smile cross his face.

"We've got him, Boss," McGee said. "His curiosity just kicked in. That's the same look Abby and Ducky get when they're trying to figure out a puzzle."

Gibbs just nodded. "If Tony can keep the scientist overriding the fear, we might just get the information we need," he said. "He just has to forget this is an interrogation."

"What about his lawyer, Gibbs?" Ziva said. "Once he arrives, he will probably stop Pandi from talking, especially if he hasn't yet admitted anything."

"Go see Abby. Have her track the guy's cell phone. We'll at least get a warning he's coming." Gibbs never looked away from the scene unfolding in front of him where Tony was explaining that his definition of healthy had changed a lot in the past five years.

"Brad — Dr. Pitt — is the one who keeps me fit enough stay in the field," Tony said. "He's been using his new protocol on me, similar to the one he uses on the people in the NIH study."

"You are part of this study?" Pandi's voice held no fear now, just curiosity.

Tony shook his head. "No, Brad's study focuses on older sailors who were exposed to asbestos; my father-in-law is one of his patients, though. He's a leadership instructor at the Naval Academy now, but he joined the Navy back when asbestos was widespread on ships, so he's developed lung issues. We made him go see Brad, since he's about the best there is at dealing with this. That's why NIH has him running this study."

Pandi nodded. "I have read some of his work," he said. "I first became aware of him when I saw his article on treating your plague. I was on leave from work and was catching up on literature in my field. I knew the patient in the article had to be the specimen infected by Mrs. Lowell, and I was curious."

"Is that how you ended up working on this project?"

Pandi nodded. "I found Dr. Pitt's article to be most enlightening, and it suggested possibilities for other uses for my research. When we lost the military contract, I persuaded my superiors that we could follow this new research path, and they gave me a team."

"Did you ever contact Dr. Pitt about his research?" Tony slipped the question in, and Gibbs felt pride at his agent's skills wash over him.

"No, I- No." Pandi's shoulders slumped again.

"Why not?" Tony asked, his tone still light. "With your overlapping interests and being right in the same area, it seems natural."

"After... After the incident with Mrs. Lowell, I was not the same," Pandi said. "Agent Gibbs made me realize how much damage my work could do in the wrong hands, and I became reluctant to work on the project. The new Lowell CEO put me on leave until I could straighten my head out. When I came back, we had lost the military contract, and the head of my division blamed me. This new field of research took me away from the bioweapons division, which I needed, but they made sure I was handicapped." He dropped his eyes to the table. "I was able to hire a staff, but I had to take them on at lower salaries. We would only be rewarded if the research paid off. A few existing staff members were moved over as well, mostly people who wanted to get out of their existing positions and were willing to take a job in a department that was designed to fail. I thought Dr. Pitt might be interested in my research, but since a Navy R&D lab got the military contract on the plague vaccine, I could not risk it."

"So you didn't contact him?"

"No. And I am sorry to hear he has been kidnapped, but I did not have anything to do with it." Pandi looked up at Tony. "You have to believe me."

Tony nodded slowly. "I do. But that means somebody else did and is framing you. My teammates found a map of Dr. Pitt's running route in your coat pocket when they searched your house today."

"I did not put it there!" Pandi's voice started to rise, and Gibbs was afraid he was going to shut down again, but Tony had it well in hand.

"I didn't say you did," he said. "It was in a gray overcoat. When was the last time you wore it? Could someone else have planted the map in your pocket?"

Pandi frowned. "I wore it Monday," he said. "I had to get an envelope out of the pocket yesterday at work, and there was no map in there at that time."

"Yesterday?" Tony said. "Why was it at your office if you last wore it Monday?"

"I had worn my parka home Monday because I thought it might snow," Pandi said. "My overcoat remained in my car. It was only last night that I remembered to bring it in the house."

"Do you lock your car at work?" Tony's tone stayed casual, his manner easy, and Gibbs admired the skill the former cop brought to interrogation room scenes. He'd gotten his most memorable confessions by using his quirky brand of humor and stream-of-consciousness rambling, but he was also one of the best on the team at handling the terrified, second only to Tim.

"Yes. I always lock my car. The business park is very safe, but it also would be easy for somebody to come in and steal items out of many cars in just a short while." Pandi's lower lip started quivering. "I do not know who could have done this."

"Has anybody had access to your house? Anybody stop by last night?"

"No," Pandi said. "I did not get home from work until very late. We were working on a new treatment — the next generation of the drug going to the FDA next week. And then one of the research assistants had a flat tire, so I had to give him a ride home. It was almost 10 p.m. when I finally arrived at home."

"That was helpful of you," Tony said. "Your co-workers are lucky to work with somebody so considerate."

"Oh, I have done it before," Pandi said. "I do not have a family, so nobody is waiting for me when I go home. When Paige had a flat tire a month ago, I gave her a ride home, so it would have been rude not to do the same for him."

"Did you pick him up for work this morning?"

Pandi shook his head. "No, he said he'd take the Metro in."

"Then why..." Tony started to ask, but Pandi continued on.

"He does not live in the best neighborhood and was concerned about the lengthy walk from the station to his house so when he asked if I could give him a ride, I did not feel I could say no." Pandi looked down at his hands. "Housing is so expensive around here, and because the company would not pay good base salaries to the team members, it was the best he could do. Richard talked often about buying something better when we got FDA approval and he could cash in his stock options."

At a gasp from McGee, Gibbs turned to look at the junior agent.

"Boss, Richard Carlisle is one of the two other suspects we came up with when we were doing our searches earlier."

Gibbs cursed. "Get down to Abby's lab and find something, anything, to connect him to Brad. If he kidnapped him, he had to put him someplace, McGee."

"On it, Boss."

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Abby and Ziva were hard at work when Tim walked into the lab.

"Timmy, you're here!" Abby said. "Tony needs to get Pandi to confess — his lawyer just turned into the Navy Yard."

"He didn't do it, Abs," Tim said. Both women stopped what they were doing and turned to face him.

"He did not?" Ziva said. "But I found the map myself."

"There's a good chance Carlisle planted the map in the overcoat when Pandi drove him home," Tim said. "He left his car at Lowell last night with a flat tire."

"Then how did he get to work this morning?" Ziva asked.

"Pandi said he took the Metro," Tim replied.

Abby pulled up his cell history. "No way, McGee. His cell signal doesn't follow the Metro lines." She pointed them out on a map on her computer. "He stayed on the streets to get to Lowell, and there's no bus route through there." She kept scrolling. "He left the office again late morning."

"To get the flat tire fixed?" Ziva asked.

Abby shook her head. "No, his car still hasn't moved. Based on his cell, it looks like he went home, then over to Chevy Chase."

"Where in Chevy Chase?" Tim asked.

Abby zoomed in on the map and clicked on the properties closest to the cell signal. "It's an office park," she said as she pulled up the data. "Ah-ha! Lowell Pharmaceuticals owns the property, probably a satellite office. I'll bet Brad's at his house, and he went to go check on him while Pandi and his other co-workers thought he was visiting the other office."

"But how could he get Brad from where we he was abducted to his house?" Ziva said. "They are several blocks apart, and his car was at Lowell."

"And how did he get into work in the morning?" Tim asked.

"Rental car?" Abby said.

"At 0500?" Tim frowned. "Not likely. Not unless he went to one of the airports."

"Taxi?" she replied.

Tim shrugged. "I can check," he said. He got into the cab company files and dumped the fare logs into a program that would let him search for drop-off points. "If I narrow the time frame down to right after Brad was taken..."

It seemed like it took forever, but Tim knew it was just a few minutes.

"Nothing," he said. "Which I guess makes sense. How would he explain Brad to the cabbie? Too early in the morning to pull the 'My friend had too much to drink and passed out' routine."

"So how else could he have done it?" Abby said. "He couldn't put Brad over his bicycle."

Tim tapped his fingers on the desk as he puzzled through it. "I've got it!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kyrie for staying up into the wee hours with me tweaking this.

"Got what?" Abby bounced up and down.

"We need to figure out how Carlisle got Brad around, right?" Tim said. Without waiting for a response, he continued. "It's not like a library book. You can't just check out a car and return it when you're done. Unless-"

"Unless you have a ZipCar account!" Abby squeezed him tight. "That's brilliant, Timmy! Carlisle could pick up a car from a ZipCar spot, use it for all the kidnapping stuff, then return it."

"What is a ZipCar?" Ziva asked.

As Abby explained how the car-sharing service allowed people without a car to use one for a few hours when they needed it, Tim checked Carlisle's financials he had pulled earlier. "He's got an account, opened it three weeks ago."

"Now why would somebody who has a car sign up for this service?" Ziva asked.

"They wouldn't," Abby said. "Timmy, can you-?"

"Already on it, Abs," he said, working his way into the ZipCar system.

Abby looked over his shoulder. "Any luck?"

He found the record he was looking for and hit the print key. "We've got the bastard now."

"I will take this to Gibbs," Ziva said as she headed out the door, printout in hand.

"Wait, Timmy," Abby said. "So if Brad was at his house, why did he need to go back so early and check on him?"

Tim frowned. "Maybe he didn't," he said slowly. "Maybe he moved him. Did he stop at any point after he left his house before he went to the satellite office?"

Abby shook her head. "Nope. He didn't even get stuck in traffic." She pulled up satellite imagery of the building. "Maybe there's something nearby, an abandoned storage shed or something?" She sent it to the plasma and they walked over to stand in front.

Tim got as close as he could, searching for anything that might give them a clue.

"Oh!"

Abby's shout startled him.

"What is it, Abs?"

"McGee, look. No cars."

"What?"

She pointed at the screen. "There are no cars in the parking lot of the building." She clicked the remote to zoom out to show nearby buildings in the office park. "It's not 1700 yet, and every other building has a parking lot full of cars."

"So maybe this isn't an occupied building," Tim said, slowly. "Abs, that's great work." He used one of her computers to access the information on the station at his desk, peeking into the Lowell servers again. He found what he needed in the Facilities Department files. "That building was supposed to house offices and supplies for the plague vaccine production," he said. "Lowell has used it a couple of times for smaller projects, but isn't housing anything there now."

He kissed Abby on the cheek and headed to Interrogation, only to bump into Gibbs leading Tony and Ziva down the hallway.

"Boss, we know where they're keeping Brad!" He handed the team leader the address. "I sent the information to Legal to get a warrant - we should have it by the time we get there."

"And Pandi gave us the motive," Tony replied. "Carlisle didn't think any alternative therapy could beat out a medication. When one of the other researchers found out NIH was submitting the study to contest the drug's approval, he got really angry."

"Enough chatter," Gibbs said. "Let's go get Brad." As they rushed out, he called Abby out to have her track Carlisle's cell phone so they could pick him up once they knew Brad was safe.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

As they entered the abandoned office building, Tim headed left and Tony right to clear the space. They had studied the blueprints on the way over, and Gibbs had picked the back warehouse space for himself and Ziva, sending the guys to clear the offices at the front. He hoped Gibbs and Ziva were able to clear the open section quickly and help them...

"Tony." Tim's whisper seemed loud in the quiet. "In here."

Tony quickly cleared the room on his side of the hall, then crossed over to look in and find Tim cutting ropes off of Brad.

"Oh, thank god," he said. "Is he ok?"

Tim nodded. "Seems to be," he said. "Banged up, but not seriously hurt."

Tony nodded and spoke into his wrist mic. "Ducky, we've got Brad in here. He's out, but doesn't look too badly hurt. I'll clear the rest of the offices, then you'd better get in here."

 _"Good work, boys,"_ Ducky said, his voice loud in the earwig. _"Mr. Palmer and I shall wait for your instructions."_

With a nod to Tim, Tony headed back out and quickly, but thoroughly, cleared the rooms. He had just notified the medical examiner when a shot rang out from the warehouse.

Tony pounded down the hallway, Tim on his heels as they headed to help their teammates. When they reached the door to the warehouse, Tony paused and held up two fingers to indicate how they should enter. Tim nodded, and Tony spoke into his wrist: "Cavalry's here, Boss."

They slipped into the warehouse and hid behind boxes stacked near the wall to see that Gibbs was crouched behind another stack of crates on the opposite side with Ziva not far from him.

Carlisle had them pinned down from his position on a set of giant shelves that still held enough boxes to make a decent sniper's nest. He didn't have a clear line of sight on either Gibbs or Ziva unless they slipped out of hiding, but they also couldn't get at him without exposing themselves to gunfire. Tony motioned for Tim to work his way over to Gibbs, while Tony circled around to catch Carlisle from behind. There was a ladder to a catwalk about 25 feet behind Carlisle that would give him a clear shot so he could cover Carlisle, allowing the other three to subdue him.

Tim had almost made it over to Gibbs' position when Carlisle caught sight of him and aimed. Tony shouted a warning, but Carlisle caught Tim in the shoulder and he went down. Tony forced himself to focus on Carlisle, scrambling up the ladder to the catwalk that would lead him to the dirtbag's perch. Tim was wearing a vest, and surely the bullet had hit him there. As Tony ran across the metal walkway, he realized how long it had been since anybody had used it as dust clouds billowed up around him. He started coughing, but forced himself to keep going. Carlisle looked back and took off across the shelves. Tony heard shots ring out and glanced over to see Ziva cutting across the floor, gun out in front of her. Gibbs was over by Tim, but Tony couldn't see what was going on. He hacked and wheezed as he tried to cut Carlisle off. He couldn't risk a shot — between the coughing and the swaying of the catwalk, he was afraid he'd miss and hit Ziva. Fortunately, she was on solid ground and took Carlisle down with a shot to the knee.

Tony skipped half the steps from the catwalk to the shelves and stumbled over to Carlisle, who was writhing in pain. He pulled out his handcuffs and snapped them on the researcher, then sat on a crate and pulled out his inhaler. Ziva climbed up a crate and onto the shelf.

"Are you all right, Tony?" She bent over Carlisle and pulled out gloves before trying to stop the bleeding in his leg.

He nodded but kept his mouth shut to allow the inhaled medication to loosen the tightness in his chest. He looked over to where he'd last seen Tim and Gibbs and almost dropped the small dispenser. Gibbs was kneeling by Tim's side pressing on his shoulder as a pool of blood spread across the concrete floor and Tony could hear his voice over the earwig. _"Duck, get back here. McGee's down, shot to the shoulder. Ziva hit the dirtbag, too - blew out his knee."_

"Oh, Timothy," Ducky said. "I will be right there. Mr. Palmer, call for the ambulance, if you would."

Tony cursed and dropped off the shelf to the crate below, then to the floor. He wanted to run over to his partner, but knew that would just cause his lungs to seize up again and leave them with two agents down. He forced himself to walk. As he reached Gibbs and Tim, Tony dropped to his knees. "He's going to be OK, right? You didn't give him permission to die."

Gibbs didn't say anything, just looked at Tony, then away. Tony swallowed hard and noticed the pool of blood was spreading quickly, too quickly, even though Gibbs was applying pressure. He was about to call Ducky again over the mic when the medical examiner came running up, medical bag banging against his leg. Brad hobbled along behind him, his movements weak, and Tony got up to give him a hand.

"Knew you'd find me, Tony," Brad said, his voice rough and cracked.

Tony just nodded. "Brad, Tim can't... I can't lose him."

"He's tough, Tony. We'll fix him up. Paramedics are on the way." Brad knelt down next to Ducky, and the two of them put a field dressing on Tim, stripping off his Kevlar vest as Gibbs propped him up to slow the blood loss.

"DiNozzo." At Gibbs' voice, Tony looked at him. "You take my place with Tim. I'm going to check on Ziva."

Tony just nodded and shifted behind Tim to support his partner. He was heavier than Tony expected, almost heavier than when they would fall asleep with Tim sprawled across him. The phrase "dead weight" crossed his mind, and he shook his head.

"Tony?" Brad said.

"Nothing, Brad. Just me being an idiot."

"He's going to be OK," Brad said. "He's lost a lot of blood, but the paramedics will be here soon."

Tony swallowed heavily, knowing that the second part was key. A red stain was spreading quickly even through the pressure bandage. He flashed back to when Ari had shot both Gerald and Gibbs in the shoulders. This looked a lot more like Gerald's injury than Gibbs', and Gerald had been in rehab for more than a year. He tried not to think about the fact that, unlike Tim, they both had been conscious after getting hit.

He forced himself to sound normal. "No wonder he's passed out," he said, ignoring the tremor in his voice. "McSqueamish never was great with blood."

After that, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and not watch, not think about the possibilities. He wrapped his arms tighter around Tim, wishing he could just transfer his own strength to Tim, give him what he needed to hang on. He bent over and whispered in Tim's ear. "Come on, Timmy. You're not making me tell Mom and Dad and Sarah and Abby you didn't come out of this one. We saved the good guy and got the bad guy and now we have to go celebrate and you need to be there for that." He rested his cheek on Tim's head and tightened his grip. Normally he liked Tim's new, fitter body, but all he could feel were ribs and bony elbows and as the image of the skeleton in Abby's lab popped into his head, he focused all his energy on Tim. "You're strong, Tim. You can do this. You have to do this. Gibbs didn't give you permission to die, and neither do I." He slid his left hand down and interlaced their fingers, their matching rings rubbing together. As long as they could keep that connection, keep that bond, Tim would make it through. Tim would be fine. Tim didn't get badly hurt. That fell to him or Gibbs. He forced himself to focus on his own breathing, keeping it slow and even. He could feel the tightness in his chest that preceded an attack and knew he had to be there for Tim the way Tim had always been there for him.

Next thing he knew, the paramedics were strapping Tim on a gurney and racing him out. Tony tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't support him.

"Come on, Tony." Gibbs reached down and helped him up. "We're going to Bethesda, get you and Brad checked out. Balboa's team is here to process the scene, and Ziva will ride with Carlisle."

The ride across DC was a blur, and not just because Gibbs was driving. Tony sat in the front while Brad stretched out in the back. He gripped the door handle and forced himself to count his breaths. In...out...1. In...out...2. He didn't need to end up in the hospital like Sean... Oh, god.

"Sean," he croaked.

"I'm going to find him as soon as I clean up, Tony," he heard Gibbs say. "If Eileen and Sarah aren't there, I'll call them. Abby, too."

Tony just nodded and went back to counting. Tim had to be OK. He had to be.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one — almost double the length of the other chapters. A couple of you have been asking for what's in this chapter - hope it lives up to expectations. :) After this, we just have two chapters left in this adventure.

Gibbs forced himself to keep his attention on the road. After everything that had happened, the last thing they needed was to wreck the car. He couldn't hear Tony wheezing anymore, and he was grateful for one less thing to worry about. He spared a glance in the rearview mirror and was glad to see Brad seemed to be holding up OK. He wanted, needed, details on what had happened to the doctor, but that could wait. Right now, Tim was the only thing that mattered.

When they got to the hospital, Gibbs dropped both men at the entrance to the ER and parked the car. When he walked into the hospital a few minutes later, neither one was in sight. He stopped the first nurse he saw. He would have preferred one who knew better than to block him from his team, but none were in sight.

"Dr. Brad Pitt, NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee, and NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Where are they?"

She walked to a computer behind the nurses station and started tapping keys.

"DiNozzo is in Exam Room 1, and McGee is in Trauma 1. Pitt isn't working on either of them, though. He's not an ER doctor."

Gibbs fought the urge to growl. "No, he's a patient. He was kidnapped this morning, and we just rescued him. DiNozzo and McGee were hurt in the shootout." He restrained himself from kicking the desk.

A few more taps. "Dr. Pitt is in Exam Room 2."

"I need to see him and DiNozzo."

"Sir, you can't."

Gibbs pulled out his badge. "I've got a victim and an agent who got hurt saving him and another agent who is under his care for long-term health issues. Which way?" This time he did growl, and the nurse hesitantly pointed down a hallway.

He found the two rooms and stuck his head in Tony's first. Tony sat on the examining table, his jacket and tie tossed onto his bloodstained NCIS jacket, all lying on the chair in the corner.

"You OK?"

Tony shrugged. "Tim?"

Gibbs wished he had news. "I don't know anything. The nurse said he was in Trauma 1. Ducky should be here soon, he can get more information. Or Brad. He's right next door."

"No, I'm right here."

Gibbs turned to see the doctor, battered and bruised, standing in the hallway. He pressed a hand into the wall for support, and Gibbs cursed and stepped into the exam room, dragging Brad with him. "You look worse than Tony. Sit down before you fall down."

Brad sank into the chair inside the door. "I have to admit, it does feel good to sit." He looked up at Gibbs. "Gibbs, if you don't ditch that jacket before you go tell Sean, he's going to think the worst. Not to mention Abby."

Gibbs looked down, realizing for the first time that blood covered not only his jacket, but his jeans as well.

"I've got some extra clothes in my office," Brad said. "Go change. I can snag some scrubs for Tony and me, but you need normal clothes before you see Sean."

"And he's not going to know something's wrong when he sees the Boss wearing a Michigan sweatshirt?" Tony scrubbed his face with his hands. "God, where's the doctor? I want to get out of here so I can find out what's happening to Tim."

"You're just here because you had an attack, right?" Brad said. At Tony's nod, he went on, "I can check you out for that. I know your lungs better than anybody here, and I'm probably not top priority right now."

"You'd think being a doctor would get you some perks." Tony tried to flash a big grin, but it was his fake one, the one he used when he was trying to hide. Gibbs let it go. What else could he expect from Tony after watching Tim almost bleed to- He forced himself to stop that train of thought.

"Brad, I'll be back. I'm going to get changed, call Abby and Vance, then go see Sean. I'll meet you both back in the waiting room." He walked off without waiting for a reply.

He started with Vance as he walked through the halls of Bethesda. "McGee's been shot, almost bled out. We've got Brad and the dirtbag. Pitt's checking out DiNozzo - he breathed in some dust - while he waits for another doctor to see him. Ziva shot the dirtbag in the knee and is waiting with him at Potomac Hospital. We need MPs over there."

_"McGee going to be OK?"_

"Don't know. Duck should be here soon. He and Brad can get answers. I'm going to tell McGee's dad."

_"I'll go tell Miss Scuito and bring her over."_

"Thanks, Leon." He paused before warning, "She'll probably hug you."

_"I'll survive."_

Gibbs hung up. The duty station at the head of the hallway leading to Brad's office was unmanned, which made sense since it was after hours. He couldn't believe it was so late, but then he started to think over everything they had done that day and wasn't sure how they had fit it all in.

Brad's door was locked, but he had his picks in the inner pocket of his NCIS jacket. Once inside, he quickly found a pair of Navy sweatpants and the predicted Michigan sweatshirt. There were jeans in the pile of spare clothes too, but Gibbs didn't think they would fit him. He quickly changed and snagged a plastic grocery bag from Brad's desk, dumping out cans of soup on the desk. Once he stashed his stained gear, he headed back to the ER to see if there was news on Tim before he went to find Sean.

Palmer was sitting in the waiting room alone when he arrived.

"Agent Gibbs," he said, jumping up.

"Any news?"

"Dr. Mallard is back there now looking at Tony and Dr. Pitt. He said Tim's been moved to surgery and they won't know anything for a while. But they're worried about the blood supply. He's O-negative, which means that's the only blood type he can get, and they're low. He's going to need a lot of units, and they aren't sure they have enough." The ME's assistant gulped. "Neither Dr. Mallard or I are O-negative, or we'd donate."

Gibbs shook his head. "AB-positive."

"Tony's A-positive," Jimmy said. "I remember from when we thought he'd been blown up."

Gibbs just opened his phone and punched in Vance's number.

_"Vance."_

"McGee's going to need more blood than Bethesda has on hand. Any way to see if anybody at the Navy Yard is O-negative and willing to donate?"

_"No need. I'm O-negative."_

Gibbs could hear a murmur of voices on the other end of the line.

_"Miss Scuito is as well. Tell Bethesda to get ready for two donors. We'll be there in 20 minutes."_

"Thanks. And tell Abby thanks, too. Tim will appreciate it."

As he hung up, he relayed Vance's message to Palmer. "Tell whoever needs to be told. I need to go tell Sean about Tim."

Palmer nodded and chewed his lower lip. "Dr. Mallard said Tim's going to make it. He's lost a lot of blood, and his shoulder might not be as good, but he's going to make it."

Gibbs clapped a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Thanks, Jimmy. Make sure you tell Abby that, too. She's going to need to hear it." He didn't wait for a response, but headed to the fifth floor. He found Sean in his room.

"Jethro?" Sean was sitting in bed reading. "What's wrong?"

Gibbs opened his mouth, but couldn't force himself to say the words.

"Tim? Tony? Are they OK?" Sean's wide eyes, so like Tim's, snapped him out of it.

"Tim's been shot," he said, crossing the room to stand by the bed. It took all his effort to keep his voice even and calm, not wanting to worry Sean by losing his usually unflappable demeanor. "They're operating on him now."

The book slipped from Sean's hands to lie open on the bed. "Is he-? Where was he hit?"

"Took one to the shoulder." Gibbs swallowed. "He's a hero, got winged pushing me out of the way of a head shot."

Sean looked at him, pinning Gibbs with his gaze. "Jethro, Tim would be the first one to tell me he wasn't being a hero. He was just doing his job, watching your six."

Gibbs wanted to look away, but couldn't. Tried to speak, but couldn't find the words.

"Did you find Brad?"

Gibbs nodded. "He was in another part of the building. Tim and Tony found him while the dirtbag had Ziva and I pinned down in another part of the building."

"Is he OK? What about Tony and Ziva?"

"Brad's banged up, but he said other than the concussion and some bruises, he's OK. Tony..." He sighed. "Tony had an attack. He was trying to get the drop on the guy from behind while Tim came to try and find an angle to get him from the front, even things up a bit."

"And then Tim got hit." Sean's voice was even, but not flat. He didn't sound mad, and Gibbs wished he would be, just a bit.

"Tim got hit, but then Ziva took out the guy's kneecap."

"And Tony?" Sean got up and walked over to stand by Gibbs.

"The warehouse was dusty. Brad's checking him out now."

Sean put a hand on Gibbs' shoulder. "He'll be all right — he's a tough kid. Tim's going to be fine." He paused. "He is going to be OK, right?"

Gibbs frowned, looking for the words. "Tim lost a lot of blood, but Brad and Ducky say he'll make it. Abby and Vance are his blood type, and they're on their way here to donate since he needs O-negative. With the storm, the hospital's running low."

Sean nodded. "Eileen will be glad to hear that. Not the blood — that will worry her. But she trusts Brad and Ducky. If they say Tim's going to be OK, she's only going to worry a little on the way here." He paused. "She can get here, right? The storm-"

"I can put in a call to a Gunny I know in the Annapolis motor pool," Gibbs said. "They have heavy equipment there that can handle the snow. He'll get Eileen and Sarah here."

Sean just nodded. "Let me call them and let them know." He thought for a second. "How much should I tell them? I don't want them to worry, but they're going to know it's bad because we're trying to get them here despite the storm."

Gibbs frowned. "Use the storm as the reason. If we don't get them here now, they won't get in until Tuesday or Wednesday at the earliest. Just tell them he's been shot and give them Brad and Ducky's prognosis."

Sean nodded again. "That should work." He swallowed. "Maybe by the time they get here, he'll be out of surgery." He swallowed again. "And I'll ask them to donate blood. The hospital needs it and if Tim's still in surgery, it will give them something to do."

Gibbs nodded, not surprised at all. He had a feeling the McGees would do the same for any member of the team. It explained a lot about his young agent. "Can you leave the room? We're over at the ER waiting on them to finish. You can wait with us."

Sean nodded. "Just need to take one of these so I don't end up back here next week." he said, holding up a surgical mask. "Brad might kill me for that."

Gibbs held out his cell phone. "Do you want to call Eileen and Sarah before we go over?"

Sean nodded and took the phone. Gibbs stepped outside to give him some privacy. Sean joined him a few minutes later, wearing slippers and a robe, carrying the mask. They headed to the waiting room, two fathers worried about their son.

When they arrived, Tony and Brad were slumped in chairs.

"You two OK?"

Tony just stared at the ground, but Brad nodded. "Dr. Mallard promised the doctor he would make sure I got concussion checks, and the gash on my head had already started scabbing. Other than that, I'm just battered and bruised. Tony's fine — he had his inhaler and used it right away."

Sean sat down next to his son-in-law and slipped an arm around him. "Tony?"

The senior field agent looked over. "Dad?" He let out his breath in a shuddering gasp. "Tim... He's..."

"Gibbs told me," Sean said, his voice breaking. "Eileen and Sarah are on the way."

Brad pushed himself up from his chair. "I'm going to check in with Dr. Mallard," he said.

As Brad left the waiting room, Palmer almost bowled him over. He rushed over to Gibbs.

"Agent Gibbs, Vance and Abby are looking for you." He lowered his voice. "They're in one of the exam rooms."

Gibbs just glared until Palmer turned and led the way back to where Vance and Abby were hooked up to lines collecting the blood pumping from their arms.

"Gibbs! Tell me Timmy's going to be OK! And Tony! Because if anything happens to Timmy, Tony's going to be heartbroken." Abby was practically vibrating in her seat since the tubing kept her from jumping up to cling to Gibbs.

He knelt down next to her and wrapped his arms around her, looking over her shoulder at Vance. "Ducky and Brad said he's going to be OK. It was his left shoulder, so it will be a while before he's cleared for the field, but he'll be fine, Abs." As he said the words, Gibbs hoped to hell he was telling the truth. That bullet had come awfully close to the actual joint, and Gibbs didn't want to think about how long it had taken Gerald to even come back to work after Ari had shot him. He pulled back. "Tony and Sean are out there, and they're having a rough time. If you're going to fall apart, do it now while they're not around."

She took him at his word, sobbing into his shoulder, soaking the borrowed sweatshirt. As she cried, the nurse came in to check on them. She unhooked Vance from the collection rig and gave both of them some cookies and juice.

"Gibbs, I'm going out there," he said. "I'll come get you when there's news."

Gibbs just nodded as Abby clung to him. He wanted to be out there with Tony and the others, but he knew Abby needed to get everything out before she joined them, and he didn't want to put Vance in that position. A bit later, the nurse came in to check on Abby and unhook her from the line, but after seeing evidence of the crying, insisted she drink several glasses of juice and rest before getting up. Gibbs kept one arm around her as she sniffled between bites of the cookies the nurse gave her.

Before too long, Jimmy walked in. "Agent Gibbs? Dr. Mallard sent me back here to stay with Abby until the nurse lets her join us."

"Jimmy? Is something wrong?" Abby chewed her lower lip as Gibbs hoped for once the ME's assistant could keep his foot out of his mouth.

"Wrong? No, nothing's wrong. I mean, yes, Tim's hurt so something's wrong, but nothing new is wrong. Tony was just starting to wonder where Gibbs was, and after Director Vance said something to him, he sent me back here." Jimmy's words spilled out, but none of them were ones Gibbs wanted to shove back down his throat.

"Abs, I'd better go. Remember what I said."

She nodded. "I'll be fine. I'll just cry on Jimmy's shoulder for a while."

"You will?" Jimmy's face flushed pink. "I mean, OK. You will. That's fine. Whatever I can do to help."

As dire as the situation was, Gibbs couldn't help a quick grin after leaving the room. Palmer, even more than Tim, was so young sometimes. He sighed. They were young, too young. How did he get to be this old? They two men were young enough to be his kids. Abby and Tony, for all they filled that role in Gibbs' life, were really only about 10 years younger than he.

As he stepped into the waiting room, he noticed that Tony looked every one of his years. The animation that normally filled him had vanished as he sat, arms propped on his knees, shoulders bowed. Fatigue and worry lined his face. Next to him, Sean slumped back in the chair, the blue of the surgical mask highlighting how pale his skin was. Brad and Ducky sat together over by the windows, talking in low voices. Vance just leaned against the wall, surveying the other men. Gibbs looked for a clue in his expression, but the director had a poker face that rivaled his own. Before he could walk over to join Tony and Sean, offer what little comfort he could, Vance tipped his head to the adjoining hallway.

Once beyond earshot of the others, Gibbs turned to Vance.

"McGee's still in surgery. Dr. Mallard said they've patched up the torn blood vessels and stopped the bleeding, but the bullet got into the rotator cuff and nicked the joint capsule, whatever that is. He said the surgery will take several more hours to repair the damage, and McGee will probably be out of the field for several months in rehabilitation." He paused. "There's a chance he could never regain full mobility in his shoulder. I don't understand the connection, exactly, but he said McGee could end up with frozen shoulder depending on how much scar tissue formed as it healed and how badly the capsule was damaged." The director looked at Gibbs. "We haven't told DiNozzo yet, or Commander McGee."

Gibbs nodded. "Better let Duck handle that. Not until McGee's out of surgery, though. Too much."

"I agree. Mrs. McGee and her daughter are about 15 miles away. The roads are getting worse, but they'll get them here. The MPs reached Potomac, and Agent David is on her way over." Vance inclined his head. "Your team always does a good job, Gibbs, but you outdid yourselves this time. You were right to make me reassemble them last year. I never said that, and I should have."

Gibbs tipped his head at the acknowledgement and led the way back into the room. He took the seat next to Tony and slipped his arm across the man's shoulders, picking up a faint tremor he'd missed just watching him.

"He's going to be OK, Tony," he whispered in his honorary son's ear. "In a couple of days he's going to be grumbling about wanting to go home to you and Jethro, and you're going to be calling him McCranky."

Tony turned to look at him, fear haunting his eyes, fear Gibbs had seen only once before, when Tony was kneeling over him and Maddie on the dock after pulling them out of the water. "You promise, Boss?"

Gibbs nodded. "I promise." Ducky was never wrong, and he said Tim would make it. He knew that was all Tony cared about now. The shoulder issues were for later.

Time ticked by slowly, the snow visible through the windows outside rising faster than the hands of the clock could move. Abby and Jimmy joined them after a while, Abby taking a spot on the floor leaning against Tony's legs. Jimmy kept her talking any time she started to slip into sniffles. Throughout the evening, first the McGees, then Brad and Ducky, and finally Ziva joined them. Vance stayed busy rounding up decent coffee and semi-edible food for all of them. Outside the blizzard raged, snow swirling as fast as the thoughts of each person in the waiting room. But conversations were quiet, just as the snow muffled noise outside. Tony didn't say a word, which worried Gibbs more than anything. A quiet Tony was unnatural.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Tony had lost all track of time when he heard somebody enter the room. He looked up to see a lanky doctor in scrubs, a serious expression set on his weary face.

"Dr. Winslow," Ducky said, getting up. Brad started to join him, but staggered until Vance gave him a hand.

"Brad, sit down," Winslow said. "You should be in bed."

Brad sank back into his chair and voiced the question Tony was afraid to ask. "How's Tim?"

"The good news is that Agent McGee is out of surgery."

"And the bad news?" Tony tried to hide the fatigue and worry in his voice, but as Abby hugged him and Gibbs tightened a hand on his shoulder, he knew he'd failed. "Don't look at me like that, doc. You said good news, and that means bad news is coming."

"Yes, well..." He sighed. "Agent McGee appears to have hit his head when he was injured. We can't tell until the anesthesia wears off if he's actually in a coma or not, but he is somewhat less responsive than we would expect at this stage."

Tony opened his mouth, but the words lodged in his throat. Gibbs pushed his chair back and stood, leaving his hand on Tony's shoulder. "When will that be?"

"Not until the morning, I'm afraid," Winslow said. "We're moving him to an ICU unit for now. I understand his parents are here."

Now it was Sean's turn to stand. "Right here," he said, gesturing to himself and Eileen.

"You two can sit with him if you like, but we need to limit visitation to one person for no more than 10 minutes every hour."

Tony froze. He couldn't be serious. Sure, Sean and Eileen should be able to sit with Tim, but what about him and Sarah? He felt Gibbs hand tighten again and knew he wasn't the only one remembering how hospital policy had blocked him from Sean's room last weekend.

Sean spoke up. "Dr. Winslow, Tim's partner is here, too. He should be allowed in as well."

"Immediate family only," Winslow said. "Agent McGee's condition is still critical, and while I appreciate that Agent-?"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"Agent DiNozzo is a close friend, it really needs to be just family."

Tony opened his mouth, but couldn't figure out what to say. His thumb worked over the band on his ring finger, but that wouldn't carry any weight. He realized it didn't matter that Tim was his medical proxy if they didn't have it set up the other way too. Without that, they were just two co-workers in the eyes of this doctor. He curled his hands into fists, wishing he'd brought this up Monday after talking to Ducky, wishing he wasn't here, wishing Tim was sitting next to him and they didn't have to deal with this because he wasn't lying in the hospital in a coma after almost bleeding to death.

He could dimly hear Gibbs stepping into the fight. "Agents McGee and DiNozzo are partners at work, but Commander McGee was referring to Tony as his son-in-law, not his son's co-worker," he said. He walked over and got nose to nose with the surgeon. "You will allow Agent DiNozzo to visit along with Commander and Mrs. McGee."

As Gibbs glared, the tension in the room cut through the fog enveloping Tony. He gave the doctor credit for not backing down. The guy actually drew himself up to loom over Gibbs.

"Certainly not," he said. "Even beyond Don't Ask, Don't Tell, they can't be legally married, and I don't see Agent DiNozzo listed as Agent McGee's medical proxy. Just an Agent Gibbs."

"I'm Agent Gibbs," he said. "I'm medical proxy for all my team members. I'll gladly let Agent DiNozzo take my place."

Tony swallowed, knowing Gibbs would do it in a heartbeat no matter how much he was worried about Tim.

"It doesn't work like that." The doctor stood firm, and Tony felt his chest begin to tighten, bands squeezing the air from his lungs. He could feel Abby's hand rubbing circles on his back, and Ziva came to stand behind him, her small hands massaging his shoulders. Sarah reached up from her spot on the floor and gripped his hand. Tony appreciated the girls' support, but wanted to find the strength to get into this fight. Tim had fought for him through his nightmares; it was time for him to fight for Tim.

He pushed on the arms of the chair to stand, but before he could join Gibbs, Brad and Sean were there.

"Dr. Winslow, I agree with Agent Gibbs," Sean said. "Tony is more than welcome to take my place in the room."

Tony almost sank back down as he realized what Sean was offering. While his own father would never sit by his bed and wait, Sean and Tim were close, closer than Tony had ever thought a parent and child could be. Sean was willing to give up his place for Tony? This time the lump in his throat had nothing to do with Tim. He walked over to stand by Sean.

"Dad..." He knew what he had to do. "You don't have to do that. Tim needs you there."

Sean wrapped one arm around his shoulder. "He needs you more," he said. "He'll understand if I'm not there. I'll just tell him Brad was worried about me wearing myself out. If he doesn't see you, he'll think you got shot, too."

Before Tony could figure out how to respond, Brad stepped into the discussion.

"Dr. Winslow, NCIS is a civilian agency and that means we should extend the courtesies we normally extend to partners of civilians."

The doctor just shook his head. "I won't allow it. It's against hospital policy."

Before Tony could say anything, Sean straightened to his full height, two inches taller than his son. "Your rank, Dr. Winslow?"

When he didn't reply right away, Brad said "He's a lieutenant commander."

Tony clenched his fists to keep from planting one right in the doctor's smug smile.

"Well, Lt. Commander, my silver oak leaf beats your gold. Commander Sean McGee, U.S. Naval Academy."

"You're not my CO, Commander McGee," Winslow said. "No JAG panel is going to support insubordination charges when I'm following official DOD policy."

Tony felt his right hand rise as though somebody else was controlling it. He pulled back, but a strong hand around his wrist kept him from releasing all his anger on the doctor trying to keep him from Tim. He looked over to see Vance standing there, cell phone in his other hand.

"Dr. Winslow." The director's voice and face were emotionless, but Tony could feel the intensity in his grip. "Commander McGee might not be your CO, but SecNav is. I've been on the phone with him four times tonight updating him on Agent McGee's status. I do not want to have to call him to report that you are barring Agent DiNozzo from being with his husband, but I will if I have to." Vance stepped closer. "You want to do this the hard way, we'll do it the hard way. Personally, I'd let Agent DiNozzo in. Or perhaps you'd rather I let his arm go and take your chances that you can physically bar him from entering?"

Winslow stepped back. "Of... Of course. I didn't realize... Agent DiNozzo is welcome to stay with Agent McGee. Somebody will come out when he's been settled in a room to escort him there."

"It won't be you." Tony hadn't said anything, but he needed to say this. "You saved Tim's life, and that means the world to me, but I do not want to see your face again as long as he is in this hospital."

Winslow just nodded his head and backed out of the room.

Tony turned to Vance. "Director, thank you."

"I told you and McGee before, I'd keep this from coming back on you." He jerked his head in a brief nod. "Commander McGee, if he tries to cause trouble for you at the Academy, let me know. I'll make sure nothing happens." He turned to Brad. "Same for you, Dr. Pitt."

"Thanks, Director," Brad said.

Tony turned to Sean. "Thanks, Dad. You- Thank you." He hugged his father-in-law. "You didn't have to-"

Sean just smiled. "Yes, I did. You belong there." He stepped away. "Besides, after what the director did, I don't think Dr. Winslow will argue if all three of us stay."

"Dr. Winslow won't, but I will," Brad said. "Sean, I hate to ruin your willingness to give up your spot for Tony, but you can't stay with Tim all night. Your body can't take a night with no sleep. Tim isn't supposed to wake up until at least the morning, so you need to get some sleep now."

"Yes, sir." Sean smiled. "Tim told me Saturday that you were my CO in this battle and I needed to follow your orders. I'm not having him wake up to find out he needs to lecture me again."

After the tension of the last few minutes, Tony couldn't help but laugh at the picture of Tim getting in his dad's face. He wasn't the only one, either.

"All right," Ducky said. "It will be several minutes before anybody is able to see Timothy, so I suggest we all take this opportunity to rest. Jethro, why don't you figure out the order for visitors beyond Anthony and Eileen."

"Count me out, Ducky," she said. "Sean and I will check in on him once he's moved there, but Brad's right, we both need our sleep so we can be there for Tim tomorrow. We're not as young as the rest of you."

"Are you sure, Mom?" Tony asked.

She nodded. "Sarah's probably going to stay here and come in and visit, but it's been a long week even before this and I don't want to scare Tim when he wakes up."

Tony just nodded and hugged her. He noticed everybody except the doctors were saying Tim would wake up in the morning. He wanted to press Ducky and Brad for details, but he was too well trained in interrogations. If he really pushed them for an answer, he'd be able to tell if they were BSing him, and right now he wanted to keep his illusions. Tim had to wake up, his big McBrain intact. He tried not to think of the last time one of the team was in a coma. Tim didn't have the trauma in his past the way Gibbs did, and he wasn't going to wake up from a coma to run off to Mexico. He was going to wake up. Tony knew if he kept telling himself that, he might just start to believe it.

Yeah, and Abby might suddenly start to wear pastels and dye her hair blonde.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kiss Me, Probie regulars will recognize one bit of this from Cat's I Love You challenge

_2300 Thursday_

Within the hour, Tony was settled in ICU watching Tim. Sarah took the first 10-minute visit before heading back to stay with her parents for a while. He was sure she would eventually end up back in the waiting room with the others. As much as he knew she wanted to stay with Tim, he was glad to have some time alone with his partner. He needed time to try and figure out what was going on, how they had ended up here with Tim unconscious in ICU.

He sat beside the bed and held Tim's hand between his. He looked at his partner, lying in bed hooked up to tubes and covered in bandages. Tim's pale skin was shadowed around the eyes, his long eyelashes and baby face making him look barely out of his teens. His recent weight loss had given him a more angular look, but watching Tim now, Tony was reminded of the rookie he'd first met in Norfolk. As he shifted in the uncomfortable chair, muscles ached from the chase, and Tony felt every one of his 40 years.

"Never thought I'd be sitting here like this with you," he said, his voice quiet. "I'm the one who gets knocked out or infected with crazy diseases or beaten by dirtbags. Gibbs is the one who gets blown up or shot. You don't get hurt, not this kind of hurt." He swallowed, fighting past the lump in his throat. "You're going to be OK, Tim. We've got too much left to do; we've had too little time together to lose each other now. Brad's not saving me so I can be at your funeral."

He blinked until his eyes cleared, the unshed tears stinging slightly. "I know we run this risk, face it every time we step out the door in the morning. When Pacci died, that could have been one of us. When Cassidy and her team were killed, that could have been — should have been — us. When you pulled me off the parking garage, when Gibbs knocked you out of the way of that car a few weeks ago... Abby talks about fate and karma, so I can't believe we finally found each other, found what we needed in each other, just to have some idiot take it all away." His thumb rubbed small circles on the back of Tim's hand. "I love you, Timothy McGee. I'll love you for the rest of our lives, and that's going to be for a very long time if I have anything to say about it."

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

_2300 Thursday_

Abby stood in the doorway of Tim's room and looked in at her two best friends. At Tony's words, she squeezed her eyes shut to hold back tears. It had just been one thing after another for them since they had gotten together. First rescuing Ziva, then Tony's lungs. They finally seemed to have that under control and were happy in their house, ready to share a life together, and now this. She wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself since she hadn't brought Bert. She needed to bring Bert by if he was still here when they got shoveled out, needed Timmy to have that familiar stuffed face. Bert had been to the hospital dozens of times before, but usually he stood watch over Tony or Gibbs. Ziva had him for several days after returning from Somalia. But he'd never been pressed into service for Tim before. OK, yes, Tim was a field agent, and he could get hurt just like the others, but he never had, and she didn't know how to deal with it. And it didn't sound like Tony knew how to deal with it either.

She took a deep breath and walked in the room. Tony was here for Tim, and she needed to be here for Tony. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"He's going to be OK, Tony," she said, forcing her voice not to quiver. "I didn't dream this time. I dreamed before Kate. Did I ever tell you that? I dreamed you had blood all over your face. You had just come back from the plague, and I was so worried something was going to happen to you. And I told Kate, and she said it was just a dream. And then she died, and Tim told me you had blood on your face. And now I tell all of you when I have a dream like that, but I didn't this time, so Timmy's going to be fine."

She ran out of breath and then realized she'd run out of words, and all she could do was hold Tony.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

_0100 Friday_

Gibbs stood in the doorway watching the two men he thought of as sons. Tony sat by Tim's bed talking to him, using words — the way Tony always did — to anchor himself. Tim was still unconscious, his fair skin ghostly in the lights of the ICU, his lashes and hair dark against it. Tony didn't look up, but Gibbs knew it wasn't because of his stealth. He could have clomped as loud as Abby in those things she called shoes, and Tony wouldn't have noticed. All his attention was focused on the man lying in bed.

"I should have known better, Tim," Tony said. "If I'd sent you to cover Carlisle from behind and I'd gone to back up Gibbs and Ziva, you wouldn't be lying here. You wouldn't have choked on that damn dust and almost let him get away."

Gibbs swallowed. How like Tony to blame himself, when nobody else did. Even Sean and Eileen weren't blaming anybody. Gibbs had always thought calling Kate's parents would be the hardest notification he'd do as team leader. But to walk into Sean's hospital room, to know Tim's parents well enough to consider them friends, and to have to tell them that Tim had been shot rescuing him while on a mission to find Sean's doctor — he hadn't been able to find the words.

Gibbs blinked and realized he was still standing in the doorway. He walked into the room and put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "It's not your fault, Tony. If you'd switched places, it would be you lying here. You're as close as we have to an indestructible agent, but even you aren't bulletproof."

Tony just looked up at him, eyes filled with raw pain. "Boss, it's just not right to see him lying here."

Gibbs sighed and hoped he was doing the right thing. The headslap was gentler than normal, but still made Tony wince.

"Tony, if Tim heard you saying that, he'd smack you, too. You know how hard he's worked to be more than a walking search engine, and part of being a field agent is accepting the risk that you might be injured. He's damn lucky that this is the first time he's been seriously hurt in six years. Even Ducky's been stabbed during that time." Gibbs kept his gaze on Tony's eyes until he could see it sink in.

"You're right, Boss. Doesn't make it any easier to see him lying here though." Tony sounded tired in a way Gibbs had never heard.

"No. No, it doesn't. But you can't take the blame on yourself. He won't want that."

Tony nodded, and Gibbs moved his other hand to Tony's shoulders and tried to rub away some of the tension. He stayed until his 10 minutes were up, then went back to the waiting room.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

_0400 Friday_

Vance approached McGee's room. It seemed wrong that the young agent was lying here, while his team waited for him to wake up. The McGee he knew was a confident field agent who was among the best in the world at solving crimes with technology. He had appreciated McGee's skills before DiNozzo's, but once he'd learned to see behind DiNozzo's mask, he had realized Gibbs' team was made up of four of the best in the country in their respective areas, all working together as a seamless unit.

Now, as he watched DiNozzo sitting there holding McGee's hand, he appreciated the senior field agent on a whole different level. He'd heard Gibbs' sitrep when he had arrived at the hospital. DiNozzo hadn't let his relationship with McGee distract him from taking down the suspect even after seeing that the junior agent was down. And watching his face now, Vance could appreciate what it had taken to do that. He tried to imagine keeping his head completely in agent-mode if Jackie had been the one bleeding out on the floor and couldn't. He hadn't been able to when Kai had Jackie at gunpoint back in the fall. So looking at DiNozzo's drawn face as he cradled McGee's limp hand between his own, Vance knew he was looking at a man who loved his partner every bit as much as he loved Jackie.

As he stepped closer, he could hear what DiNozzo was saying.

"I never thought it would be this hard, Tim. It's hard to believe that just yesterday we talked about one of us moving off the MCRT so we could start a family, and I said it should be me. We know if you move, you'll end up in CyberCrimes and you'll hate that. But now sitting here, watching you like this, I wish you would so you could stay safe." He started to speak and stopped, choked up. "Except I know you, and you like being a field agent too much. You're too good as a field agent to go back to the sub-basement. I want you to go back in the field, want you on my six, want to know you're on my six. The doctors won't say if that's possible, if your shoulder will recover enough." He swallowed, Adam's apple moving. "But they don't know you like I know you. You might be the only person I know as stubborn as Gibbs. You don't back down for anything or anyone. God knows I tried my best when you were a probie, but you took it all and kept coming back for more. You have to be OK, have to come back. Because as hard as it was to keep going after Kate died and when Ziva stayed in Israel, I don't think I could stay if you weren't there. If- When you make it though, make it back in the field, I'm going to ask Vance for the transfer to Cold Cases. Dwayne Wilson's been doing a good job over there, and he was a marine. He survived Gibbs when he spent a week with us, and he can handle having him as Boss. Vance can just switch us out. Because like I told Abby when she first found out we were together, I'd much rather work on another team and have you at home than not have you at all. Tim, you have to be OK."

Vance stepped back out of the doorway. He couldn't intrude. He wasn't family the way the rest of the team was, and DiNozzo needed his family around him now. As he walked down the hall, the senior agent's words circled in his brain. DiNozzo was right. McGee was too good an agent to be in CyberCrimes, but if he couldn't be cleared for field duty that was the only place in the agency for him until he had enough experience for a promotion to administration. And even if Gibbs agreed to let DiNozzo move to Cold Cases, that didn't mean it was the best use of DiNozzo's skills, not when he was on track to replace Gibbs when he hit mandatory retirement as a field agent in a couple of years. He nodded. He couldn't do anything to help McGee heal physically, but he could develop a plan to help both men get what they needed, whether McGee got cleared for the field or not. He was not losing either agent from NCIS if he had any say in it.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

_0500 Friday_

Ducky took advantage of his medical credentials to go back and check on Timothy. Though after listening to Abigail's description of the two men in the hospital room, he rather thought Anthony might be in greater need of his services than Timothy. If anything were to happen to Timothy, he rather feared Anthony would blame himself, much as he had done after Jennifer's death.

As the medical examiner approached the room, he was careful to move quietly, not wanting to disturb the agent who sat hunched over his partner's bed. He observed the readings on the various monitors and was pleased to see that they were no worse than when Timothy had first been moved into the ICU. His blood pressure was still low, and Ducky knew that the hospital staff planned to administer another infusion once they could get a few more donations.

Anthony was looking at Timothy, lines furrowed in his forehead. The agent's voice was too low for Ducky to make out words, but he could hear the love mixed with fear and hope in his friend's voice. The doctor in him knew that between the concussion, blood loss, and damage to his shoulder, Timothy was not yet out of the woods and would be out of the field for many months, if indeed he ever returned. And yet the psychologist in him knew that with Anthony at his side and the rest of their family behind him, Timothy would return. He only wished the voice in his head would stop pointing out that he had many more years experience as a doctor than as a psychologist.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the final chapter. Special thanks, as always, to Kyrie, my editor extraordinaire! Without her, my stories would not be nearly as good.

_0700 Friday_

Tim tried to open his eyes, but his lids were too heavy. As he inhaled, he could smell the familiar antiseptic scent of a hospital. He tried to think, but all he could remember was entering the warehouse with Tony and splitting up to try and take out Carlisle. What had Tony gotten himself into this time? Tim knew his partner had to be badly hurt if his brain had blocked it out. Unless Ducky had slipped him a sedative to get him to sleep. The doctor had done it to Gibbs before. He tried to force his eyelids open, but instead found himself sinking back into sleep.

 

_0830 Friday_

The next time Tim woke up, he felt floaty. He couldn't seem to open his eyes, but he could manage to wiggle his fingers and toes. Rubbing his thumb over his left ring finger, his breath caught in his throat. What had happened to his ring? And what had happened to Tony? He wasn't... Tim pushed the thought away. Even if Tony was dead, he wouldn't have taken his ring off. Not if it was the last piece he had of him. Tony had to be alive. Tim tried calling out to him.

"Tony," he croaked.

"Tim?" He could hear his partner's voice, but it was faint. He succeeded in opening his eyes this time and saw Tony leaning over him. "Oh, god, Timmy, you're awake."

"M'wake. Wha-?" But his lips couldn't form the question. As he started to drift again, he felt a lightness in his chest. Not Tony. Tony was fine. Then it must be him who was hurt. Something wasn't right about that, but he couldn't figure it out.

 

_1000 Friday_

Tim first realized he was awake, because he could hear voices. The words were fuzzy, but as he listened, he started to catch bits of what was being said. He tried to organize his thoughts and focused on opening his eyes. As he did, he saw an older man hustling Tony out of the room.

"Stop!" He tried to yell, but it came out as a croak. His brain finally kicked into gear as he recognized the older man as Steve Jenkins, the older sailor in Brad's study who'd had such a negative reaction when he'd realized Tony and he were partners. He tried to push himself up and cried out as his left side erupted in pain.

"Tim!" He looked over to see his dad sitting by the bed.

"Stop. Tony. Steve, no!" He forced out before the pain transformed his protest into a moan.

And then Tony was by his side, stroking a hand across his face. "Tim, it's OK. Just lie back."

He shook his head. "What's Steve doing? He can't force you to leave. I need you here with me."

Tony gave a weak laugh and dropped his forehead down to meet Tim's. "He's not. Really, he's not."

His dad stood and rested a hand on his good shoulder. "I just wanted Tony to get some rest," he said. "He's been sitting up with you all night, and Brad and I both agree he needs some rest before he ends up getting admitted, too. He didn't want to leave, so Steve volunteered to make sure he made it to my room so he can get some sleep in a bed. Abby warned us he'd sneak back otherwise."

Tim looked up at Tony and tried to raise his eyebrow, but he still felt kind of fuzzy and floaty.

"Busted," Tony said. He reached out and laced his fingers through Tim's. "You stirred for a bit earlier, but otherwise you've been out cold. Ducky said the doctors didn't think you'd be awake for another couple of hours." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Dad threatened to sic Gibbs on me if I didn't go."

"Where's Gibbs?" Tim was starting to feel more like himself. "What happened?"

"Tim, this can wait," Sean said.

Tim tried to shake his head and winced as it set his stomach to churning.

"Careful there," Tony said, stroking Tim's face again. "You gave yourself a real whack on the head. The doctor thought you might be out for a couple more days."

"How?"

"Hit your head on the ground after the dirtbag winged you," Tony said, his fingers moving up to stroke Tim's hair. Tim relaxed into his touch. "He clipped your shoulder, just an inch outside the edge of your vest. You were pushing Gibbs out of the way."

"Through and through?" Tim wanted to ask more, but that was all he could manage, his energy starting to lag.

"Went through, but Ducky said something about the joint and your rotator cuff and a bunch of other things that boiled down to you've got a lot of physical therapy ahead of you, and probably won't be back in the field until almost the summer. You had to go and get shot in the left arm, didn't you, Probie?" He bent down and kissed Tim's forehead, taking the sting out of his words.

Tim smiled. "Says the man who broke his left arm killing Rivken." He yawned. "Sleepy."

"Yes, but I'm right-handed," Tony said. "Tim, don't ever scare me like that again."

"Not... purpose." Tim could feel the fog claiming him again and fought against it. There was something else he needed to ask. As Tony kissed him gently on the lips, he remembered.

"Steve? Not... OK? With us?" He looked over at the sailor by the door.

"What? No." Steve stepped closer. "Look, I'll admit, I was a little shocked when I learned you two were together. It's just... I'm old-school. But I saw Tony sitting with you this morning, heard from Brad and your team how he'd been sitting with you all night." The older man swallowed hard. "And when he looked at you, I could tell he feels for you the way I felt for my wife. I don't understand it, but I can't argue with it." He blinked his eyes a couple of times.

"So you weren't ... hurt him." Tim felt as though he was speaking through cotton balls.

"He wasn't going to hurt me, Tim." Tony yawned and stretched, his spine cracking all the way.

"Bed, Tony," Tim said. "Be here... you wake up."

"Well, yeah, McObvious," Tony said, running his hand along Tim's arm. "Everybody's going to be here. We've got almost two feet of snow, and it's still coming down. We're all going to be here for a few days." He yawned again.

"Tony, go," Sean said. "I don't have it in me any more to carry a sleeping son to his bed."

Tim laughed at the image. "Get Gibbs? He'd... be able..."

"No, he'd head-slap me awake," Tony said. "I'm going, I'm going. Tim, when I wake up, maybe you'll be up to complete sentences."

As Tony left, Tim settled into the bed, his mind clouding. "Mom? Sarah?" He managed to find the words.

"Sarah's in the waiting room, and your mom is trying to find me some food," his dad said. "The doctor wouldn't let Sarah stay in here."

"You guys... Tony..." Tim smiled.

"No."

"No?" Tim reached his right hand up to scrub his eyes. "What... mean, no?"

"If your director hadn't been ready to get SecNav on the phone, Tony would have been stuck in the waiting room with everybody else."

"SecNav?" Tim's brain wasn't working right; he couldn't hold on to any thoughts. "Why SecNav?"

"Because that damn doctor wouldn't listen to the rest of us." Sean glared, his eyes fierce as the Celtic warriors in tales his own motherhad told Tim and Sarah when they were little. "He said as far as Bethesda was concerned, Tony didn't have any more standing than Ziva or Abby to come see you. Your mom and I could come in because we're your parents, and Gibbs could come in as your medical proxy. He offered his spot to Tony, and the doctor turned him down. I ordered him to let you in, and he said JAG would never prosecute him for insubordination. I even offered to give up my spot, and he wouldn't back down. Tony was about to hit him when Vance stepped in."

"Vance didn't... mad at Tony?" Tim frowned, frustrated that he couldn't make his brain cooperate.

"No, he's not mad at Tony. Threatened to let him force his way in here if the doctor wouldn't back down."

"Good."

"Good?" His dad got up again and stood at the end of the bed. "Timothy McGee, there is nothing good about this. Your husband almost got shut out of here because you don't have the right paperwork to let him in. It's a simple form."

Tim opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say. He thoughts were floating around, fragments he couldn't grab onto. He blinked a few times, and when he rubbed his hand across his eyes, it came away wet.

"Tim," his dad said, coming around to sit next to him, "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to yell. Hell, you haven't even been awake 20 minutes."

"Never apologize. Sign of... weakness." He reached out for his dad's hand. "Can't sign now... Hand. Soon as possible." And that was the last thing he remembered before sleep overcame him.

 

_1400 Friday_

He woke once as he was being shifted around by nurses, but drifted back off. The next time he woke, he realized that he must have been moved out of ICU into a regular room. Tim looked over to see Tony by his side, their fingers interlaced. He squeezed his hand.

"Tim! You're awake." Tony stood so he could drop a kiss on his forehead. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been shot." He scrunched up his face.

"So stiff, sore, and floaty on the good drugs," Tony said, grinning at him.

"Now I know why you're goofier than ever on painkillers," Tim said. He tugged on Tony's hand to pull him close. "Soon as I can sign my name, we're getting all the paperwork done so you never get booted out again," he said. "Dad read me the riot act after you left earlier."

Tony eased himself to sit on the bed next to Tim and leaned over, using his right arm to support his body weight, and kissed him on the lips. "Like he said you did last weekend?"

Tim smiled. "Pretty much." He swallowed. "Tony, I'm sorry. We spent all that time making sure I was on your paperwork in case you got sick. I should have thought to make you my medical proxy, too. I just didn't..."

"Think you'd get shot?" Tony sighed, then gave a rueful chuckle. "It's OK, Tim. I should have thought of it. I'm the one who has a medical chart thicker than your next book. I'm just glad you're OK." He leaned forward and kissed Tim, who slid his good arm under Tony's scrubs, fingers skimming his chest.

"Timmy, you know we can't..." Tim captured his lips again, swallowing his objection.

Tony forced himself to pull back, and Tim grumbled.

"When you're home," Tony said. "I do not want to explain to the doctor how you popped a stitch because of me. And you are not getting me all revved up when we can't do anything."

"Payback for torturing me on the beach," Tim said, grinning.

"Oh, yeah, they've got you on the good drugs," Tony said. He skimmed his left hand over Tim's face, and Tim took the opportunity to kiss the ring on Tony's finger. "Where's mine?"

Tony pulled a string from around his neck, the ring dangling from it. "They had to take it off before surgery," he said. "Ducky got it, and Brad found the string. I'm afraid to ask what its medical use is. As soon as it's OK for you to wear it around your neck, I'll give it back. Ducky said it might be a few weeks before you can put it back on your finger."

"No."

Tony sat up in shock. "What do you mean 'no'? I thought…"

"Next time I put it on, it's going to be as your husband."

"But you are my husband, Tim. And I'm yours."

Tim grinned. "You know, the Court's expected to rule in favor of same-sex marriages in DC this month. So let's make it legal. I want the whole world to know you belong to me and I belong to you."

"You trying to make an honest man of me?" Tony asked, a wide smile across his face.

When Tim nodded, Tony leaned in and kissed him. "Let me get everybody in here, so we can tell them the good news."

"Mmm... Later," Tim said. "Stay here with me for now."

Tony just smiled and lay down next to Tim, snuggling close, carefully sliding his hand over the bandages that covered Tim's heart, and even through the floating sensation caused by the drugs, Tim felt anchored by Tony's presence and his love. He dropped a kiss on his soon-to-be-husband's forehead and let himself drift back to sleep.


End file.
